Child of Four
by sarini
Summary: AU The difference one spell can make... Voldemort developed a spell that mimicked death, trapping a soul within a body, but then his own body was lost. How will the path of Harry's life change? Somewhat HBP and DH compliant. SLASH and het
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** The world of Harry Potter and the characters therein are the sole property of JK Rowling. This story will make no profit for the author and no copywrite infringement is intended. Both the writing and reading of this story is purely for entertainment purposes.

**Author's Note:** This story takes place in an Alternate Universe, something which will be immediately apparent to readers. As a result, it will diverge from cannon significantly, so any flames complaining about OC behavior will be ignored, or possibly used to roast marshmallows and makes s'mores... mmmm... s'mores. There will be SLASH in this story, of the H/D variety, and a few other incidents. Not all my characters are gay or bi. An expanded version with some explicit scenes will be posted on my Yahoo group. Oh yeah... and mpreg... but not for quite a while and not common.

As of August 28, 2008, this chapter is beta'd and reposted and the rest shall follow.

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_**Child of Four**_

by sarini

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**Chapter One**

**Introduction**

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It was a night no one, muggle or magical, would forget. The storm that had been raging outside since before sunset had crescendoed into a fury of wind, rain, hail, thunder and lightning. Long before the storm reached its zenith, every parent on the island of Great Britain had been faced with the difficulty of disappointing their children. There would be no trick-or-treaters that Halloween night. Bowls of candy would remain filled beside tightly locked doors and costumes would go unworn. Shutters were firmly shut against the raging elements.

The Potter family had no use for candy or costumes that night, as they never had any intention of leaving their house and expected no knocks on their door, but they had decided to have as traditional a Halloween as they could. Potter Manor was literally impossible to find, invisible to both muggle and magical eyes.

Only one man was able to find the house or lead others to it, and he was safely locked away in the comfort of a small cottage, most likely having fallen asleep in front of the fire, his chocolate frog card collection strewn on the table in front of him, as his friends had found him on more than one occasion.

"Who's my scary lion?" James Potter nuzzled the painted face of his son.

Harry giggled, his temporarily whiskered nose wrinkling, and tried to roar. For some reason that his parents could not figure out, Harry thought all animals made the same sound, "Rar!"

Lily had insisted on painting Harry's face the muggle way that night, though she had conceded to spelling on some lion whiskers. Harry was a true Gryffindor lion, outfitted in furry gold one-piece pajamas with feet and a hood that had two round ears on it. A short lion tail hung off the back, the end of it already thoroughly chewed.

They had tried to explain Halloween to Harry, but they only managed to convey that there would be candy and Harry could dress up. Even at fourteen months, Harry had an active imagination. He loved to go through their old textbooks on magical creatures and imitate the sounds the pictures made, even if he only did come up with the one sound himself.

James picked Harry up and rolled onto his back on the Oriental rug, resting Harry on his stomach. Harry continued making his roaring sounds, which were awfully cute in the baby's voice, until James started tickling him. They both laughed as Harry wriggled on his father's chest.

"I think it's time for the scary lion to hibernate," Lily smiled down at them from the open doorway.

James stopped tickling and stood up. Harry automatically wrapped his arms around James' neck and gave a little yawn, "I think that Mama is right Harry."

A quick cleaning spell removed the make-up and a _Finite_ took care of the whiskers. Harry scrunched his face up and brought a hand up to feel where the whiskers no longer sprouted from his nose.

"No?" Harry's green eyes, so very much like Lily's, were wide and disappointed. James hated seeing that look in both pairs of eyes.

"Maybe tomorrow Harry-bear," Lily's smile widened into a grin. She and Harry rubbed noses and she kissed his forehead, always in the same place.

She must have felt the shift in the air the same as James did though, because the grin froze and then faded. James came to a horrified understanding in an instant and passed his son to his wife in haste, whipping out his wand.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off –"

Lily's skin was paler than James had ever seen. She nodded and took Harry, pressing her lips to James's mouth in a desperate kiss, a possible farewell. There was a crash and the splintering of wood as their front door was breached.

Lily darted out of the room and up the stairs to the apparition point in Harry's nursery while James turned to face the entrance of the parlor from the hall.

"James Potter," a low hissing voice came from the man who entered the room.

At first sight he was no more impressive than any other wizard, but then the hood of his cloak fell back. His eyes were blood red, his nose mere slits like those of a snake, his lips gone. Power radiated off of him, dark and twisted. He had been handsome once, that was easy to see, but he no longer even looked human.

Lightning flashed outside, one bolt after another in rapid succession. James suspected what was causing it, but would not let it distract him. Since Harry was six months old, the Manor had been struck by an unusual number of lightning bolts, always when Harry was upset. James was thankful each day that his great-great-great-great-grandfather, with an odd fear of fire for a wizard, had installed several lightning rods. The man had been a seer though, and James wondered if the fear of fire was just a ruse.

"You cannot have him, Voldemort!" James said firmly, amazed at the calm in his own voice. Since they had heard the prophecy, he and Lily had both prepared for this moment, though neither of them told the other. James was ready to die to protect his family, and he would die proud.

"Then you know why I am here," Voldemort's thin lips twisted into a grotesque mockery of a smile.

James kept listening for the 'crack' that would signal the escape of his wife and son, but it didn't come. He cast curse after curse at the dark lord, all of them easily deflected. James was an Auror, and from a line of powerful wizards and witches. He was probably facing one of only a dozen or fewer people who could block his curses so easily.

"They will not escape, Potter," the hiss taunted him, red eyes burning. "They will not even be able to leave this house." James swallowed, knowing his eyes showed his fear, not for himself, but for Harry and Lily. "I had considered killing you and your Mudblood wife, but I believe this will be much worse... for you."

James felt his eyes widen, wondering what Voldemort could be planning. He erected the strongest shield he could manage, but the curse, with an incantation James had never heard before, ripped through it like a bludger through parchment and struck him at his heart.

The pain was excruciating and James felt his body fall to the floor. His limbs were not stiff, like with a paralyzing hex, but he still could not command them to move. He could not move his eyes or even hum. He just stared out of his body, his heartbeat echoing a rapid pace in his ears.

"To all appearances, and to the knowledge of muggle and magical medicine, you are now dead James Potter," Voldemort's voice reached him, but James could not see the dark lord until his body floated up and followed the gliding figure up the stairs, "but to you it will be a living death, condemned to an eternity of darkness in your body."

There were tears in Lily's eyes as they entered the nursery and James wanted to comfort her, to let her know he was still alive. Nothing he could do would make it happen. She held out her wand steadily though, her body between the dark wizard and their son, who was crying in his crib.

Harry shrieked and lightning hit the Manor once, then twice, absorbed through the lightning rods and directed through copper wires into the earth.

"You will never win Voldemort," Lily's eyes flashed dangerously, a look James had learned to fear, but this was exponentially greater than any reproachful look James had been on the receiving end of.

She slashed her wand and a curse of questionable morality shot out, but the Dark Lord simply held out a hand and it careened into the wall where it left a burn. Her eyes narrowed, and a touch of uncertainty flickered in them. She was like a lioness protecting her cub, but knowing that she wasn't strong enough.

"Stand aside, Mudblood," Voldemort hissed, "unless you wish to die with your husband and son."

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –" A touch of hysteria entered Lily's voice.

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" the hissing voice ordered.

"No! Take me instead!" Lily pleaded.

Voldemort's laugh was easily the most disturbing thing James had ever heard, and that included the time Sirius had forgotten to put up a silencing charm around his bed at school that one night. The laugh was high-pitched and grating, easily heard over the screams of little Harry... screams James could do nothing about.

Then there was a flash of light from outside the window as lightning came dangerously close to striking the side of house, defying nature by missing the half dozen metal rods atop the Manor. The unfamiliar incantation was spoken again and a jet of sickly green light hit Lily's chest. Her body crumpled to the floor face-down and Harry instantly stopped screaming, perhaps in shock.

Voldemort stepped closer to the crib and peered down at the child, "So little one, you have the power to destroy me... not for long."

Harry was no longer making a sound, and his tears had stopped falling. James was amazed to see his son looking up at the Dark Lord without fear. There was only curiosity in the green eyes as Harry pulled himself to stand, supported by the white posts of the crib.

The baby then did the unthinkable. He blew a raspberry at Voldemort. Inside his limp, seemingly lifeless body James was overcome with laughter. His son was definitely a Marauder. Never mind that he was most likely trapped inside what appeared to be his dead body for eternity. Never mind that any second Voldemort would kill the last Potter.

The Dark Lord, with the name that the entire world feared to even speak, had baby spit on his face courtesy of Harold James Potter. Not even Harry's first word 'quidditch', or at least that's what James and Sirius thought he said, had made James more proud. Of course, Lily had been torn between pride and glaring at James at the time. She had always been annoyed that he had 'quidditch on the brain'.

_Avada Kedavra!_

James's stomach twisted as the words were spoken and the green light, eerily identical to the one that hit both him and Lily, shot out of the wand towards Harry's forehead.

Time slowed, and James swore he saw Harry's eyes narrow in concentration before the window behind the crib shattered, spraying the room in shards of glass. Lightning struck the crib a fraction of a second before the curse struck Harry. Harry was pushed back by the curse but his pudgy little hands held tight to the crib and James saw the second impossible, unthinkable thing from his son that night.

The killing curse bounced.

It struck Harry's forehead but it then doubled back and hit Voldemort. The whole room glowed green and there was an explosion. James felt himself pushed backwards and down the stairs. His head struck something... the floor... the wall... chances were he would never know which. Spots danced in front of his eyes and just before blackness swept over him he heard a sound that was both torture and relief all mixed into one.

Harry was crying again. Harry was alive.

James regained consciousness but was surrounded by darkness, a deeper darkness than anything he had ever experienced. There were voices, but they were muffled. James concentrated as hard as he could through the searing pain radiating in his head.

"James and Lily Potter are together in death as they were in life..."

He was hearing his own funeral. Padfoot would love it if he knew, and would surely wait until it was all over before digging them up and rescuing them. The 'white sheep of the Black family', as the Marauders had dubbed Padfoot, had often suggesting faking all their deaths so they could attend their own funerals.

His favorite idea had been to show up in their secret animagus forms in full sight of all the mourners, and then transform just as the dirt was being thrown on the coffins, scaring the piss out of everyone there, the ultimate prank.

The sound of dirt falling onto his coffin with a thump brought James out of his memories. Pebbles bounced down the sides of the box and James felt panic start to take hold of him. He was being buried alive. He tried to scream, tried to move and beat his fists against the lid of the coffin, but not a single part of his body obeyed him.

Oddly, it was the realization that at least he wouldn't suffocate, seeing as he wasn't breathing anyway, that calmed him down.

He didn't know how much time had passed. After the thud of shovel after shovelful of dirt sealing him six feet beneath the surface of the earth faded and went silent, James was left with only his mind to entertain him. He had heard somewhere that solitary confinement, with nothing to signal the passage of time, was a sure path to insanity. It was said that even without the dementors, the prisoners of Azkaban, not allowed windows or any human contact, would surely lose their minds.

He hoped Peter enjoyed it.

There was no doubt in his mind that Peter had betrayed him. They had never imagined that Voldemort and the Death Eaters would suspect Peter as the Secret Keeper. Both Sirius and Remus would have most likely disappeared before Peter was approached, and Peter would have told them, given them ample warning. That could only mean that Peter had willfully betrayed them.

Peter Pettigrew was a Death Eater. It just figured that his animagus form was a rat. James wondered why they hadn't thought of the implications of that before. It had just been useful for the small size, and they never connected that to the obvious indications about Peter's personality.

James still had his sanity, or at least he thought he did, when he felt a finger move. It was just one little twitch, but it felt like the most wonderful thing in the world to James. Little by little his body came back to him, and lastly his lungs gasped a huge breath, only to find there was very little oxygen in his underground prison.

He almost panicked before he remembered he could simply apparate. After all, he knew exactly where he was. Potters had always been buried in Godric's Hollow, and the spot of their burial was marked by some ancient spell the moment they were born. He gave quick thanks that wizards were always buried with their wands and gripped the familiar length of mahogany tightly. James closed his eyes and concentrated.

Cold air rushed against skin, and the moisture it carried brought enormous relief. It was night and the sky was filled with twinkling stars. James felt a guttural cry escape his throat as his shaky legs gave out and he fell to the ground. He glanced around quickly and saw his headstone, with Lily's next to it. Further off, where Potter Manor should have risen above the trees, there was only sky.

"Lily," James said hoarsely, speaking for the first time in who knew how long.

With almost too much haste James began using his wand to uncover his wife's coffin. She might not know exactly where they were buried, and could splinch herself if she tried to apparate. He summoned the coffin out of the ground when he thought he was close enough and banished the locks holding the lid in place.

Lily was inside, her frightened eyes staring up at him, her chest not moving, but her limbs jerking irregularly. James picked her up out of the coffin, forgoing the use of magic in favor of touching her once more, her body pliant in his arms.

He hugged her tightly as her senses came back. Her arms wrapped around him and she drew a shuddering breath before dissolving into sobs. James murmured comforting words in between the soft kisses he pressed to her forehead, her cheeks, every bit of skin on her face. The salt of her tears was the first thing he tasted since the chocolate frogs he ate that Halloween night.

"James," Lily's voice was equally scratchy with disuse but James had never heard anything sweeter. "Oh it was awful, James. I thought you were dead – and then I was – and Harry –"

She began to cry again, and James realized she had not been able to see what he saw, had not heard what he heard.

"Harry lived," James silenced her tears with those two words. Lily's eyes rounded with amazement and she began to smile in sudden understanding and hope. "He did it. He got Voldemort." He kissed her again and held her tight against him. "Let's go find our son."

They stood, leaning on each other for support. Lily turned her head back to look at their graves, "We can't leave it like this. If someone sees before they all know..."

James grimaced and nodded. Grave robbing had dark purposes in the wizarding world. With a few swishes of their wands everything was back the way it had been before James exhumed his wife. They smiled at each other, hopeful smiles that would be brighter and complete when their family was whole again.

When they appeared at the small house that Sirius rented it was completely empty, devoid of any signs of life, boards nailed over broken windows, and the Potters had their first inkling that something more than the attack on their home had gone dreadfully wrong on that Halloween night.

"He did something stupid," Lily said in a hollow voice, shaking slightly.

The possibilities were endless, given it was Sirius they were discussing, and James could not bear to voice a single one of them. In the madness of grief there was no limit to what Sirius might have done. James couldn't bear finding another of his friends missing, possibly dead, and his son still not found, "We need Albus."

Their next apparition was to Hogsmeade, and though they were hungrier than they had ever been they did not even pause in their stride. James tugged at Lily and led her toward the dark candy shop, closed for the night.

"James," Lily said in the tone that always preceded a lecture, "what on Earth are you doing? Hogwarts is the other way. Now is not the time..."

"We can't exactly waltz in the front door," James grinned a bit sheepishly as he brandished his wand and unlocked the door, sneaking inside the candy shop with his wife. He hadn't broken into that store in years.

He didn't need to look at Lily to know the expression on her face. Her eyes were flashing and her lips were tight with anger, "Once we find Harry you have a lot of explaining to do, James Nathaniel Potter."

James just nodded, "Yes, dear," and continued down the stairs to the basement of the store, where the hatch that led to the tunnel was in the same spot it had always been.

They listened closely before exiting the tunnel into the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It took more time than usual to make their way towards the Headmaster's office, as they had to stop and hide several times for late night, or maybe it was early morning, wandering students and patrolling professors. James felt his fingers itch with the desire to hex Snivellus as he passed, but Lily laid a restraining hand on his before he even knew he had moved it.

Standing outside the gargoyle, James spouted off a list of sweets under the both impatient and amused eyes of his wife. He was nearly out of ideas when 'Goofy Gumdrops' made the gargoyle leap aside. They rode the staircase up to the Headmaster's off and heard a voice bid them enter.

"Hey, Albus," James spoke as casually as he could as they walked in.

He had never seen the famously unflappable Albus Dumbledore lose his composure or express anything even remotely resembling shock until that day. The bright blue eyes were blinking and the mouth that usually hid behind the voluminous beard gaped open.

"James? Lily?" Albus stammered, the knuckles of his one hand turning white as they gripped the side of his desk, the other hand clutching his robes over his heart.

Lily stepped forward and took the old man in an embrace, "He didn't kill us, Albus. He cast some spell he invented to make everyone think we were dead. It only wore off about two hours ago."

Albus held her at arms length before hugging her tightly again. He held out an arm and James stepped into the welcome embrace. They all had tears running down their cheeks when they stepped apart, and Albus conjured up a pot of tea and three cups, along with a tray of biscuits.

After devouring the food and drink, though James found he could only eat very little, they were able to listen to the story Albus told them of the previous twelve months, apparently the length of time that had passed since Halloween. The tea cup James was holding shook and clattered against the saucer. Surprise graced the Headmaster's face yet again when James and Lily both glared at him from across his desk.

"How could you, Albus?" Lily's voice was low and laced with anger. The look she favored Albus with was only slightly less vehement than the one she had cast on Voldemort. "I wrote in my will that Harry should never go to Petunia, not even if the entire list of twenty other guardians, you included, had died!"

"This is a list of those who attempted to adopt Harry one year ago," Albus said gravely as he slid a piece of parchment across his desk. James picked it up and scowled. The Malfoys were on the list, along with at least five other Death Eater families, and terrible images of what could have happened to Harry filled his mind.

"Peter was our Secret Keeper, Albus," James growled, registering the widening of the blue eyes and the pain that suddenly appeared in them. "We switched at last minute to fool Voldemort. I don't care what you do, but you had better have the Ministry at least willing to give Sirius a trial when we get there."

"I'll go to Surrey," Lily's eyes showed determination and James almost felt sorry for Petunia and Vernon, but not if they had done anything to hurt Harry.

"I'll get Moony and Padfoot," James said with a loving look for Lily.

He gave Albus a final glare before nearly running down the stairs of the Headmaster's office with his wife close behind. Whatever explanations the old man had, whatever excuses, they would have to wait until James and Lily had their family together again.

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Please Review!

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	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter Two**

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Lily looked down as they ran through the corridors of the school and realized she was wearing her favorite formal robes. They were rust colored, like her hair, with embroidery of complex patterns resembling the characters that made up the ancient languages of the Sumerians in an emerald metallic thread that matched her eyes. Her sister lived in an entirely muggle area and it would not do to be wearing robes when she showed up to get Harry.

"James," Lily called to her husband as they reached the edge of the school's wards. They had passed a few early rising students and completely ignored them. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon as they approached the edge of the school's wards.

"Lily," James turned and that smile, the smile that made girls fall in love with him at first sight, that made old ladies press a hand over their hearts, sparked an answering smile from Lily.

"Be careful," Lily hugged him tightly and kissed him firmly, loving that the smile was only for her.

James laughed, "Remember who you're talking to! I'm always careful." Lily snorted and lifted an eyebrow, giving James what she called 'the Mum look'. For an instant, almost too short a time to see, his eyes were sad and haunted. "I'll be careful, Lils. I love you. I'm not about to die on you again."

They shared another kiss before James apparated away.

Lily stood still for a moment, just looking at the spot where her husband had been standing before he left to find Remus. She felt a pang of guilty pain. Remus would think Sirius had betrayed them, because they had thought Remus might have been the traitor... and he was all alone. She had promised years ago that Remus would never be alone again.

There would be time for guilt later, and Remus would soon be with the rest of the true Marauders. Right then her son, her Harry, was waiting for her, not aware that his parents were still alive and on their way to him. Her abdomen cramped and Lily cursed. Her cycles would be completely messed up. She made a mental note to visit Poppy once everything was under control. Harry's birth had been difficult, and she had never been regular, or anything even remotely resembling regular.

Lily quickly transfigured her clothing. The robe became a long-sleeved tunic of the same material and pattern. A pair of fitted jeans covered her legs, and the boots she had worn with the robes were eccentric for a muggle but would do, as would the deep emerald woolen cloak that kept out the cold nicely with the aid of a warming charm.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, never having been fond of apparition. She much preferred traveling by the Floo Network rather than disappearing from one place and reappearing in another. It took her some time to orient herself properly in the muggle neighborhood before looking for her sister's house.

Lily stood on the porch and rapped her knuckles firmly on the rather plain looking door. There was no answer, and Lily reminded herself that it was still early. She knocked a second time and waited. She knocked again, louder, and felt her temper rising. Lily could just blast the door open, but she was in an entirely muggle neighborhood in the daytime. She did not want the Ministry showing up.

"Petunia Bethany Evans Dursley," Lily yelled, her hand itching to grab her wand, "open this door right this instant!"

The long pale face of Lily's older sister, by two years, was frozen in a horrified expression when the door slowly opened. She stared at Lily like she was seeing a ghost, "No, no... you... you're dead!"

"Reports of my death have been grossly exaggerated, Tunia," Lily frowned. If _her_ supposedly dead sister showed up, she would be thankful, not scared.

She sighed and stepped inside the house, making Petunia stumble backwards, and wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic smell. Petunia had always been a little too obsessed with cleanliness. "I did as you asked, Tuni. I left you alone, and I wouldn't be here today if the Ministry had paid attention to my will and left Harry in the care of _anyone _other than _you_. Now kindly fetch my son and you will never have to see either of us ever again."

Petunia blinked her eyes and shifted on her feet for just an instant before recovering, but Lily had sensed the uneasiness and narrowed her eyes. Something was not right in that house. The two sisters glared at one another briefly and Lily examined the room with her peripheral vision.

There were pictures everywhere, the only thing that could possibly be described as clutter, of an almost spherical looking boy. That could only be Lily's nephew Dudley. She only heard about his birth when her parents commented on it just days before they died, killed by Death Eaters. Lily hadn't even known that Petunia was expecting.

Nothing in the room indicated that a second boy lived there.

"Take him and good riddance," Petunia sniffed and looked down her nose. She may have been several inches taller than Lily, but Lily had always been the pretty one, the smart one, and Petunia had grown jealous over the years. "There must be something _defective_ from his father's side. That spawn of yours hasn't walked a step or spoken a word since..."

Lily's eyes widened and her heart seemed to skip a beat. How badly had Harry been affected by the attack? Had he been permanently disabled by the curse? There was a bang from the hallway and both sisters spun to see a tiny figure running towards them, too large clothes miraculously not tripping him as his upper body seemed to have more momentum than his feet. Lily slowly fell to her knees and held out her arms.

"Mummy!" the emerald-eyed boy shrieked as he practically flew into his mother's arms, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The petite redhead ignored her gaping sister as she examined every visible inch of her baby, not at all happy with his condition. He was far too small, his clothing far too large, and there was at least one bruise that he could not possibly have gotten himself if he wasn't walking as Petunia said. A slow steady anger began building, one that each of the Marauders would have instantly recognized and fled for the next village as soon as they detected it. She ignored it for the time being, as she had her son to care for.

"Oh Harry-bear," Lily kissed his forehead and the crown of his head, noticing what could only be a curse scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on the spot where she always kissed him, "Mummy missed you."

"Daddy?" Harry's eyes, still shining with tears, looked up at her hopefully.

Lily smiled through the tears and anger, "He's with Uncle Moony. We'll see him soon."

Harry's thin arms held her with a surprising amount of strength for a two year old child. He was sniffling and Lily felt dampness both on her neck where his face was buried and on her hand through the strangely baggy knit pants.

Lily glared at her sister, "Give me a fresh diaper."

Ignoring her sister's wince, Lily laid Harry down on what was probably a ridiculously expensive table and took off the baggy pants to reveal a diaper that could not have been changed in days and a rash that had not been treated. She gritted her teeth and was almost angrier with her sister than she had been with Voldemort that night. She heard the tinkle of breaking glass but ignored it. Petunia practically threw the plastic diaper at her and scurried out of the room.

She would deal with her sister later, or maybe just describe what had happened to the Marauders. A little grin crept over her face, one that would have truly frightened her twit of a sister. She pushed it out of mind and focused on her baby. She would not allow Harry to be witness to any more violence if she could help it.

"What a mess," Lily cast a cleaning charm on Harry, and a skin soothing charm for the rash before transfiguring the plastic diaper into more suitable cloth diaper and fixing it in place. "Let's go baby," the shirt was quickly transfigured into proper children's robes, green like Lily's cloak.

Lily scooped Harry up and tucked her cloak around them both before leaving the house. She didn't bother with any possessions Harry might have there, though she doubted there were many, if any at all. There were no 'goodbyes', not even a backward glance. Lily hated that her sister was so afraid of her, but just then she was too angry with her older sibling to regret their past.

"Oh bugger," Lily cursed as she stepped outside.

Usually prepared for any eventuality, Lily had not thought beyond getting Harry and had no idea how they were to meet up with James. Harry was too young for her to apparate with him, or for a Portkey, and there was no fireplace to use... and Lily had no money on her. She was not about to beg anything from her sister.

With a mischievous smile she tossed her hair and held out her right arm. James would forgive her for a little flirting if it got her and Harry to London. Besides, James flirted with everything on two legs – male, female, goblin, elf, giant, even centaur though that was four legs– the man was just a natural flirt.

There was a loud bang as a purple bus appeared out of thin air and rolled to a stop in front of her. Harry whimpered and hid his face. The doors swung open and a pimply faced teenage boy stepped out, or actually nearly fell flat on his face.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus," his voice cracked as he spoke, not making eye contact with her, "emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard. Where to, Ma'am?"

Lily smiled and batted her eyelashes and the kid shifted uncomfortably, "We need to get to London... to the Ministry... but I'm afraid we don't have any...," Harry squirmed in her arms and whimpered again and Lily rubbed his back. "It's okay, Harry. This nice boy will help us. We'll see Daddy soon." Harry slowly settled down and the pimply-faced boy was looking impatient. Lily suspected Harry was hungry and she just wanted to get them on the bus and on their way.

"Five sickles for London, seven if you want a hot chocolate, children under four are free," the boy frowned.

"As I was saying," Lily smiled again, but the look of disbelief on the boy's face was not what she was expecting.

"Blimey... is that...," Lily realized the boy was staring at Harry, not her, "Harry Potter?"

All the chatter of the wizards and witches on the bus instantly stopped and several faces were pressed to the windows. Lily saw that Harry had shown his face from under her cloak and the dark red lightning bolt on his forehead was fully visible.

"Yes he is," Lily kissed Harry's black locks, which were promising to be just as unruly as the bird's nest James called his hair. "Say 'hello,' Harry."

"Lo," Harry said quietly, waved a little, and then hid his face again, still sniffling.

The boy was struck speechless and ushered Lily onboard the bus. Stunned faces stared at her and Lily remembered what Albus had told them in his office. The whole wizarding world hailed Harry as their savior, and it was the one year anniversary of Voldemort's downfall.

It was for that reason almost as much as the blood magic wards that he had suggested placing Harry with Petunia, and the Ministry just agreed, never showing the Headmaster the wills that James and Lily had left in the care of the goblins at Gringotts. Albus had wanted Harry to have as normal a childhood as possible.

"Lily?" a familiar voice came from the back of the crowd. "Is that really you?"

The crowd all began talking with their neighbors, still staring, as one figure pushed his way towards the front of the bus. Lily recognized him instantly, a fellow Order member, despite the numerous changes to his appearance.

"Alastor?" Lily gasped. She hadn't seen him for a year or so before the attack and he was missing a leg and a chunk from his nose, but it was still Alastor.

The gruff Auror looked at her suspiciously, his magical eye spinning in its socket, obviously scanning her, "How did we first meet?"

Same old Alastor, Lily flushed. She did not want to broadcast that incident to the entire bus of gawking spectators. She cleared her throat, "You... um... helped me... in Diagon Alley... the summer before my fourth year. I'd," Lily blushed deeper, "gotten lost and stumbled into Knockturn Alley."

There was a chuckle in the crowd and Lily saw the Auror's healthy eye moisten. He stepped forward and hugged her roughly, then turned on the onlookers.

"All of ye mind your own bloody business if ye know what's good for ye. You," Alastor Moody jabbed the driver with his wand, "the lady said she needs to get to the Ministry."

"Yes, sir," the driver squeaked.

Moody's glare, and most likely his reputation as well, forged a path for them to the back of the bus and he set up silencing charms around them. Lily started Harry nursing, thankful that the curse still allowed her to feed her child.

"James...," Moody had discarded his usual fierce facade and there was a touch of fear in his eye, a bit of dampness.

"He's alive, Alastor," Lily gently rested a hand on one of the gnarled hands of her husband's mentor and began to tell him the whole story.

"Ministry of Magic," the breaking voice of the teen announced.

Harry had long since nursed himself to sleep. Alastor took Lily's arm and escorted her past the gawkers and down the steps of the bus, which emptied after them. It seemed that everyone suddenly had pressing business at the Ministry, including the driver and teenaged greeter.

They entered the atrium to find James arguing with the watchwizard, a small crowd forming behind him. The fireplaces flared as witches and wizards arrived for their day's work, though none of them were making it past the atrium. Entertainment was where you found it, and just then it was in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. Remus stood next to and just behind her husband, one hand on his shoulder. Lily didn't know if he was supporting or restraining. Both were likely.

Harry stirred again, most likely woken by the noise.

"I most certainly am James Potter," James's voice carried across the atrium and there were several gasps behind her. Her lips formed a small smile. "As you can see I am quite alive and I demand to see the Minister this instant!"

"Daddy!" Harry cried out, also loud enough to be heard by everyone there.

James and Remus spun around, as did the crowd around them, and the two Marauders dashed towards Lily and Harry. Lily saw that Remus's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Harry wriggled and reached out for James.

Lily passed her son to his father, who had forgotten all about getting to the Minister's office and was reuniting with Harry. Remus grabbed Lily in a bone-crushing hug, almost literally as he sometimes forgot his own lycanthropy enhanced strength.

"I thought I'd lost you," Remus choked on the words as he buried his face in her hair, "all of you."

"You're stuck with us, Moony," James whispered as he slipped an arm around Lily's waist.

There was a flash from a camera and several sniffles in the crowd. Someone blew their nose rather loudly. James tried to pass Harry to Remus, but Harry refused, gripping James tightly and beginning to fuss again. Lily took him and settled him down, James's arm still around her waist, as though he was afraid to let her go. Remus hugged all three of them, tears in his eyes, and kissed Harry on the top of his head. There was the clicking sound of a camera firing picture after picture, but Lily didn't care.

Alastor's voice boomed over the sniffles and cameras, "Now young man, about that visit to the Minister."

Word had gotten to the entirety of the Ministry by then and Minister Angliss showed up himself and escorted them first to his office, and then to Auror headquarters. They were reunited with dozens of friends that hadn't seen them since Harry was born. James and Lily both swore under truth serum that Peter Pettigrew was their Secret Keeper.

It took only fifteen minutes for the assigned Aurors to fetch Sirius from Azkaban. The man they came back with was not the same Padfoot Lily had come to love, a bit reluctantly at times due to his exuberance and recklessness.

He looked like he was seeing ghosts and was silent and gaping for several minutes. He even flinched when James stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Then Sirius broke down.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius, always composed, always arrogant Sirius, sobbed and shook in his best friend's arms, Sirius who no one had ever seen cry. "It was all my idea to switch to Peter."

If anyone there hadn't been convinced before, they were then. The Aurors who had brought Sirius had been instructed not to tell him anything.

"Stay with us for a time," Alice Longbottom appeared silently at Lily's side and nudged her. Alice had always been able to walk silently and sneak up on Lily. "You'll need some time to rebuild the Manor. We got a fire call and came right away."

"Are you sure?" Lily asked her good friend. "I don't want to impose."

In truth, Lily had not given a thought to where they would live.

Alice laughed brightly, "I could use the help with Neville." She dropped her voice, "and between you and me, I cannot stand Frank's mother."

"Thanks, Alice," Lily smiled gratefully. "It would be good for Harry and Neville to get to know each other."

They were both silent as the same words ran through their minds, the words of the prophecy that could have applied to either boy. Then Lily thought of something Albus had said in his office. The Headmaster did not think Voldemort was actually dead. There was still the second half to fulfill, though not for some time if Lily had anything to say about it.

"Yes," Alice agreed soberly. "It would be best if they were friends."

Harry was again asleep by then, and slept through the entire process of ensuring Sirius's freedom, reinstating both him and James as Aurors, negotiations with the Ministry for compensation, and the trip to Longbottom Hall.

It had already been a long day, despite the fact that it was not even time for dinner yet, but Fate did not have rest in store for them. There were bright flashes coming from the windows of the ancestral home, and muted sounds of a woman screaming, and then a young child.

"Neville!" Alice cried out and ran towards her house, Frank close behind her.

Lily's heart leapt into her throat and her stomach turned, increasing the mild pain that had been lingering all day. It was all supposed to be over.

"Remus," James used a commanding tone that Lily had never heard before and she knew she was seeing her husband, the Auror, "take Lily and Harry to Hogwarts. Sirius, head back to the Ministry and get help."

Before Lily could protest, James kissed her and ran after Frank and Alice, his wand drawn. Sirius had gone with a loud 'crack'. Remus tugged her arm and directed her back towards the pub they arrived in.

The bartender gave them an odd look as they rushed back inside.

"The Longbottoms are under attack," Remus said tightly.

There were gasps throughout the room and several people jumped up with their wands in hand, rushing to the rescue, wartime mindset reasserting itself after a year of peace.

Just before they were about to Floo to Hogsmeade the fireplace flashed green and several Aurors stepped out with Sirius.

"They'll be fine, Lily," Sirius promised. He hugged her and ruffled Harry's hair before running out of the pub.

Remus threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire and she stepped in, wand held tightly in her hand. Lily's only thoughts at that time were for the safety of her husband and child.

"The Three Broomsticks!" Lily said clearly, and spun away through the network, knowing that Remus was right behind her. As she turned another cramp came over her and it was all she could do to avoid crushing Harry as she fell out of the fireplace. A small crowd had already formed around her and Harry when Remus tumbled out and knelt beside her.

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Please Review!

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reposted: 8/28/08


	3. Chapter 3

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**Chapter Three**

**First Year**

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"Hurry up!"

Two boys walked as fast as they could through the train station, while trying not to attract attention. They were unsuccessful. It was not a usual sight, boys pushing trolleys laden with old-fashioned looking trunks and cages containing a large toad and a snowy owl.

"There is no need to rush," the auburn haired woman with them scolded. "You have plenty of time before the train leaves!"

"Mum!" the darker haired of the two boys turned around and whined, yet another unusual instance though only for the three of them. He wanted to get to the train and get a compartment as quickly as possible. The sooner they got on the train, the sooner it would leave, and the sooner they would be at Hogwarts. He was only barely able to contain his excitement, which truly said something about the level of emotion. This boy had learned a strict control over his feelings long ago.

Lily Potter sighed and a family with bright red hair rushed by them.

"Packed with muggles...,"

Harry Potter watched the family go by and saw that there was a boy his age among them. Judging by their hair color, they were Weasleys. No one else had hair that red and so many freckles. Harry had met their father more than once at the Ministry, and the oldest boy had come to the Manor a few times, but none of the others.

Neville used the time that they paused to take Trevor out of his cage and try to wrestle him into his pocket. The toad did not want to stay still though. Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled in amusement at Neville's attempts to control his pet and Neville frowned.

"He doesn't like being in his cage!" Neville asserted.

Harry almost laughed, but just lifted his eyebrows, "He doesn't like being in your pocket either!"

"The train, boys?" Lily Potter reminded them with a smile.

Harry gave his mother a sheepish grin and pushed his trolley forwards again. His Uncle Remus was supposed to have taken him and Neville to the train that morning but he was sick. That left Neville's grandmother watching Harry's brothers and sisters while Neville's parents and Harry's dad and Uncle Sirius were on duty at the Ministry. Harry's mum was the only one available to deliver them to the Hogwarts Express for their first year at Hogwarts.

They got to the barrier between platforms nine and ten and had to wait for the redheads to go through. Harry and Neville followed and headed for the back of the train. Uncle Sirius had advised them that it was the best place to sit. Actually, Uncle Sirius had advised them in many things Hogwarts related, most of which Harry's mother would hex the dog animagus for if she ever found out.

"You behave," Harry's mum admonished. "I don't want to get a single owl from your Head of House... and the same goes for you Neville."

Harry and Neville had been raised practically as brothers. They lived in villages close enough to walk between, though it was a long walk, and Harry's mum always watched Neville while Neville's parents were at work. They were both tutored by Uncle Remus, and separately by Uncle Sirius, Frank, Alice, and Harry's mum and dad.

Uncle Remus tutored Harry's siblings as well, Neville was an only child, and both Uncle Remus and his mum gave Harry private lessons for as long as he could remember in controlling his magic. It had a tendency to get loose when he was particularly excited, thus the need for iron control over his emotions.

Both boys tried to squirm away as Lily Potter gave them each a hug and kiss goodbye. They wrestled their trunks onto the train together, with the aid of the redheaded twins, and saw Harry's mum strike up a conversation with the twins' mum.

"Fred and George Weasley," one of the twins pronounced and bowed deeply with a flourish, "at your service."

"Neville Longbottom," Neville shook their hands while Harry found a place for his owl's cage. He had named her Hedwig, a name he had always liked from his history lessons. After the trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid and Neville, Harry was _not_ looking forward to meeting people.

"Harry Potter," Harry sighed and shook their hands as well.

Identical eyes widened and looked instantly at his forehead, "Blimey!"

"Are you really?" the other twin asked eagerly.

"We gotta go," the first twin said, eyes still wide in awe. "Lee Jordan's got a tarantula up front."

"See ya around Harry!" After a moment they remembered there was another boy there, "Neville."

Harry sat down and frowned. More than anything he wanted to go to Hogwarts, but he hated all the attention he got whenever he went out in public. Because of it he and his siblings had only been to Diagon Alley a handful of times, and usually with something of a disguise for Harry. They spent much more time in muggle places than magical ones, apart from the Manor. The muggle world was such an easy place to be anonymous, and Harry wasn't famous there.

When he went for his school supplies though, there had been too much confusion at home to get something together. His mother and his siblings had whatever cold it was that Uncle Remus now had and there wasn't a bathroom available for use in the Manor.

"You'll get used to it," Neville said sympathetically, and grabbed after Trevor, who had leapt out of his pocket, "and so will they."

Harry's hand moved almost without thought and plucked Trevor out of the air, "Just keep him in his cage until we get there Neville or we'll be chasing him all over the train."

Neville sighed, "I suppose. He just hates it in there!"

Their door flung open and one of the redheaded children entered, "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Harry shrugged almost imperceptibly and Neville nodded. The redhead dragged his trunk and the two other boys helped him put it on the overhead rack. He also had a cage with a rat. Harry narrowed his eyes. He did not like rats, not at all.

"How long have you had the rat?" he asked, a bit suspicious.

Peter Pettigrew had never been found. Harry had heard his parents speculating with Moony and Padfoot, as Uncle Remus and Sirius were often referred to, that Peter was probably hiding somewhere as a rat. Uncle Sirius had made it his life's mission to find Peter and Harry had privately vowed do whatever he could on his part to help his godfather. This rat had all its toes, but Harry had no idea what dark magic Pettigrew knew.

"He used to belong to my brother Percy," the boy said uneasily under Harry's gaze. "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. Percy had another rat that ran away ages ago, so Mum and Dad bought this one for him."

Neville nudged Harry and apologized to Ron, "Sorry, he doesn't like rats."

"Sorry," Harry muttered, but his good mood was already gone.

"Are you really...?" Ron asked in a hushed tone.

Harry sighed and brushed aside his fringe. He knew he should have expected this, but he had been so excited about getting to Hogwarts that he hadn't given much thought for what would happen once he met the rest of the students.

"Wow," Ron settled down on a seat opposite them. "I thought Fred and George were teasing. They do that a lot."

The conversation soon turned towards quidditch, for which Harry was grateful. Ron redeemed himself slightly by arguing with Harry that the Chudley Cannons were the best professional team. Harry favored the Kenmore Kestrels, a team that actually won some of its games.

The door opened again and Harry was instantly on guard. A small blond boy was flanked by two larger boys, obviously serving the role of bodyguards to some degree. Harry's hand automatically rested on his hip holster, ready to pull his wand if there was trouble.

"I heard Harry Potter was in this compartment," the blond boy said with a superior tone. "So it's you then?"

_"I really don't think they should let the other sort in..."_

_Neville was next door with Hagrid, so Harry was in the robe shop alone. He had almost pulled his brand new wand on the spot. His mother was muggle-born. Luckily for them both, Madame Malkin had finished with the blond and he left the shop before Harry could hex him._

"That's right," Harry responded.

"The name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the blond said smugly.

Ron Weasley snickered, but Harry restrained himself. After all, his godfather was named Sirius and had a cousin named Andromeda who named her daughter Nymphadora... and Sirius was a Black, from one of the darkest families out there. Wizards and witches sometimes came up with the oddest names for their children.

"Think my name is funny, do you? There's no need to ask your name," Malfoy sneered defensively, and Harry didn't really blame him. "Red hair, freckles, hand-me-down robes, you're a Weasley." Malfoy turned to Harry again. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry just raised an eyebrow and saw that Neville was fighting hard to hold in his laughter. _Just who does this brat think he is?_ Harry knew what his father said about Lucius Malfoy, though. "I think I can figure out who the _wrong sort_ are for myself."

It might have escalated, but Trevor chose that moment to leap out of Neville's pocket again and landed right on Malfoy's face. The blond squealed and slapped at the toad, who had already leaped off. Harry shut the door quickly and snatched Trevor from the luggage rack, handing him back to Neville.

"Good old Trevor," Neville said fondly as he and Ron dissolved into laughter. Harry just smiled.

The only other disruption during the trip was from a bushy haired girl who told them they should be getting their robes on, as they were getting close to the school.

"How would she know?" Neville asked the others. "She's only a first year too."

Harry shook his head, but pulled on his robes anyway. It wasn't long before the train slowed to a halt and the first years were scrambling into boats for trips across the lake.

"My brothers told me we have to wrestle a troll," Ron said in a hushed voice.

The bushy haired girl, who had gotten into the boat with them, huffed and Harry and Neville exchanged a glance. Uncle Remus had told them what really happened at the sorting after Uncle Sirius had made them both stay awake in nervous anxiety two nights running with his tales of the trials they had to go through for their sorting, but had made them promise not to ruin the surprise for any other first years.

Professor McGonagall, who Harry's mother said was a wonderful teacher, was waiting for the first years and gathered them together outside of the great hall for her beginning of the year speech. Harry only half listened. From the stories his father and uncles told, Harry and Neville probably knew more about Hogwarts than anyone else there.

Harry already knew the locations of several secret passages and the general layout of the castle. The three remaining Marauders had recreated what they could of their Map from memory and Harry had promised to keep an eye out for the original.

They all trekked into the hall for the sorting and Harry stared up at the ceiling. No description could do it justice, he decided. He knew he had been to Hogwarts before, twice before he was three years old, but he didn't remember either trip.

The first was after he and his parents had been attacked by Voldemort and the second was the day that Neville's home was attacked by Death Eaters. Neville's grandmother had nearly died protecting him. It was also the day that his mother discovered she had been over two months pregnant when Voldemort attacked them all at Godric's Hollow.

The sorting hat was sitting on a stool, looking pretty ragged, when it opened its mouth and sang. Remus had told them that the song was different every year, and that occasionally the hat would have some good advice for the school, but that year it seemed to be a basic song about the four different houses.

Harry only half paid attention to the sorting, until names he knew were called. The bushy haired girl, Hermione Granger he discovered, was sorted into Gryffindor. He heard Ron Weasley groan next to him and shook his head. They didn't know if she was _that_ bad. Neville was also sorted into Gryffindor and Harry clapped for him.

Neville had spent the night before at the Manor and had told Harry late at night that he was afraid he'd be sorted into Hufflepuff. The Longbottoms had been almost convinced Neville was a squib, and done all sorts of ridiculous stuff to try and scare the magic into showing in him. It finally had, but Neville still tended to be a little jumpy, especially if someone sneaked up on him. Harry suspected that both were also related to the Cruciatus Curse having been cast on Neville when Longbottom Hall was attacked.

"Potter, Harry," Professor McGonagall announced.

There was whispering and pointing all over the hall as Harry sat himself on the stool and the hat was lowered onto his head.

_Hm, hm, very interesting indeed, another Potter. There's talent in there, oh my yes quite a bit of talent, and control like I've never seen. There is bravery and determination, loyalty, and the smarts of your mother, ambition of sorts and potential for great power. Well Mr. Potter I know exactly what to do with you. I'm not giving another Potter the chance to argue with me. You're going exactly where I told your father and grandfather they should be..._

"Slytherin!"

If Harry had been eating, he would have choked. If he had been standing he would have needed to sit down immediately. As it was, he just felt a pit forming in his stomach. His insides went cold, and then it was like everything else did as well, though he knew his face showed none of his reaction. There wasn't a sound in the hall as everyone stared at him. There was no clapping for him as there had been for each other first year.

It was so cold...

Harry almost winced, but couldn't let it show. He reigned himself in, got a hold of his magic. He hadn't lost control like that in so long.

Then clapping started. Harry's eyes almost watered when he saw it was Neville, standing up at the Gryffindor table with a wide grin and applauding loudly. Harry smiled back at him involuntarily and looked over to the Slytherin table with a little apprehension. He saw the looks on their faces and knew exactly what they were thinking... they were not about to be outdone by a Gryffindor, and a first year at that. They stood almost as one and started clapping for Harry.

He slid off the stool and made his way over to the table. There were several open seats, and he chose the one furthest from Draco Malfoy. Most of the older students gave him nods and tight smiles.

"Tracey Davis," the girl he sat next to introduced herself.

Harry smiled politely, though he still felt like he had swallowed an icy boulder, "I suppose it's really unnecessary to tell you my name."

She laughed and they turned their attention back to the sorting, but not before Harry saw the glare sent his way by Malfoy. The last student to be sorted, Blaise Zabini, took a seat next to Harry. There was quite a bit of noise at the other tables, and Harry found he was actually glad to be sitting where he was. No one harassed him about his scar, or asked him questions about Voldemort. All of them knew the stories already, as there wouldn't be a single muggle-born at that table.

He looked up at the staff table and saw a sallow faced, dark haired man giving him a piercing stare. It made Harry decidedly uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat. It wasn't nearly as bad as what he felt when he looked at the professors next to the man, Quirrell and a witch with a vacant expression. Harry met Quirrell in Diagon Alley with Neville and Hagrid, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a little strange. There was a twinge in his scar, and he felt a headache begin to spread out from it.

"What's wrong?" Blaise Zabini was giving him a funny look.

Harry realized his hand had flown up to his scar. He rubbed his forehead, "Headache. Do you know who that professor is, next to Professor Quirrell?"

"That's Professor Snape," one of the older students said from a few seats down. "He's our Head of House and Potions Master."

Harry felt his eyes widen. He knew exactly who Severus Snape was, "I am so dead. Someone just _Avada_ me now."

Eyebrows raised all around him. Tracey was the one who asked, though, "Why?"

"My dad and his friends used to play pranks on Professor Snape constantly when they were all students." Harry felt like banging his head on the table. His headache was just getting worse and worse. "If my godfather doesn't kill me for being sorted into Slytherin, Snape certainly will."

"It can't be all that bad," a boy that Harry thought was called Nott said disdainfully.

Over at the Gryffindor table there were screams and everyone looked to see the Gryffindor House ghost with his head hanging at his shoulder. Someone must have asked Nearly Headless Nick to elaborate on that name. Ask a stupid question...

Harry gave the boy a very level look and said plainly, "My godfather is Sirius Black."

"Oh," Nott responded.

No more was necessary. The entire wizarding world knew all about Sirius Black, the famous Auror, the innocent man who had spent a whole year in Azkaban without a trial. That alone had been enough to take away any chance of ever becoming Minister from Bartemius Crouch, whose son had then been captured in the attack against the Longbottoms. The sentencing of his son to life in Azkaban only further destroyed his career.

Sirius, who never shied from attention, had become the Ministry's poster-wizard for the side of light. His story, the child from the infamously dark Black family who got sorted into Gryffindor and became an Auror was published in the _Daily Prophet_, broadcast on the Wizarding Wireless Network, and even made into a children's book. He also appeared regularly in _Witch Weekly_, something the vain Auror's ego certainly didn't need.

"Want some help planning your funeral?" Tracey asked him wryly.

Harry definitely saw potential in that girl. She had a decent sense of humor. He finally cracked a smirk, "Yeah. Should we decorate in red and gold?"

Someone across from them almost choked on their pumpkin juice. She grinned at them, "Oh no. I couldn't see you in red and gold. Green goes so much better with your coloring."

"Hm, I wonder why...," Harry feigned ignorance. The Slytherin House ghost took that moment to make his appearance, and Harry was pleased to see that the ghost spent the whole feast next to a very uncomfortable looking Draco Malfoy.

Every detail for Harry's anticipated demise was laid out by the time the meal ended. The first year students were led to the Slytherin common room by a fifth year prefect named Montague, who told them all that he was on the quidditch team.

He gave them a lecture about Slytherin House, how they should never get caught disobeying the rules, and any problems between housemates should be solved in-house. The sixth year students who would be their 'substitute big brothers and sisters' would seek them out sometime the next day. There was to be no public dissention. He gave them the password to the common room _'Acetylsalicylic Acid'_.

At the strange looks he got the prefect shrugged, "Professor Snape said something about keeping a fine balance in the universe."

Whoever had decided which students were sleeping in which beds had not been thinking along the same line. Harry's bed was right next to Malfoy's, which was against the wall. One of the oafs, Crabbe Harry thought, was one his other side. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and the other oaf were across from them.

The boys all gave each other uneasy looks as they prepared for bed. Harry and Malfoy both instantly cast a series of protective spells around their beds and belongings. Harry couldn't help but be impressed at Malfoy's knowledge, but he still didn't like him.

As he fell asleep Harry reminded himself to send a note to his parents about his sorting, and another to Remus begging him to restrain Sirius when he found out. He had also promised his sister Brianna, or Brie as he called her, that he would write, and make sure to include a note for Alex and Ian, who were just learning to read and write.

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Please Review!

**.:**O**:.:**O**:.**

reposted: 8/28/08


	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter Four**

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Severus Snape was not a morning person, nor was he an afternoon person, or a night person. There were some, in fact, who were convinced he was not a person at all, and most of them were first year Hogwarts students. He loved to disappoint them, but he was in fact human. He just did not like other humans for the most part, or those of other species, or the crosses between like Rubeus Hagrid.

When his door was knocked on rather early in the morning he glared across his bedroom for several minutes before getting up. He let whoever was disturbing his sleep wait while he dressed for the first day of classes. Upon opening his door, he was surprised to see not another professor, nor one of his Slytherin prefects, but one of the only people who could ever have been called an actual friend, and even that was with a stretch of the imagination.

"Good morning, Severus."

"What," Severus snapped. Friend or no it was too early, "are you doing here?"

"I came about Harry."

Severus rolled his eyes. The brat had only been sorted into his house the night before and already was disrupting his life. He stepped back and let Lily Potter into his quarters, without really wondering how she had found them. She had married a Marauder and they had ways of discovering all sorts of things Severus didn't want them to know.

"Come to tell me he's not his father and you want me to treat him just like all the other dunderhead brats?" Severus glared, though it wasn't a particularly harsh glare. He had already gotten the 'Harry Potter is just another student' lecture from Albus and didn't need it from the boy's mother too.

Lily just lifted an eyebrow and gave Severus a little smile, like she was amused with him. He hated when she did that. It always happened right when he fell into a trap of hers.

"Not at all, Severus," Lily sat down and conjured a tea service, pouring herself a cup. Severus sat down and took one for himself. Her conjured tea had always been very good, while he tended to make it a bit weak. "I know that you're above petty rivalries. You've always been more mature than James and Sirius."

Damn that woman. Now he would have to live up to her praise, and she knew it. Lily Evans should have been sorted into Slytherin, but she was muggleborn, and no one who had two muggle parents ever made it into that house. One was stretching it, but it had been known to happen on occasion.

"Then why are you here at this ridiculous hour?" Severus asked her politely.

"Albus knows, but I have a feeling he won't tell you, and I thought you should know, being Harry's Head of House and all," Lily began slowly. Severus raised his eyebrows. How had she found out so quickly? The Headmaster had probably sent that damned bird of his to Potter Manor to tell them. "Have you wondered at the sudden appearance of dozens of lightning rods on the turrets and crenellation?"

Severus had noticed them, but just passed them off as another of Albus's eccentric ideas. "Do you ask Albus Dumbledore why he does things? I had no desire for a two hour discourse on some inane subject that has nothing to do with the lightning rods, or lightning, along with yet another attempt to force those detestable lemon drops down my gullet."

Lily laughed, but it didn't fully show in her eyes. Something was bothering her. Severus felt a bit of dread creep over him. Lily never mentioned anything accidentally, much like Albus. Only Lily tended to make much more sense than the Headmaster and actually provided the answers to the questions that were posed.

"Albus had the lightning rods installed because of Harry," Lily said bluntly and then sipped at her tea, breaking eye contact.

"Excuse me?" was all Severus could think to respond with.

"Remus has been giving Harry special lessons for nine years," Lily told him.

Severus snorted and ignored Lily's disapproving look. She knew exactly how he felt about the werewolf. He wondered what that half-breed could teach the boy, ignoring the fact that Remus Lupin had been one of the top students in their graduating class.

"Harry needed to learn to control, Severus," Lily said sternly. She was approaching her lecture tone. "He's a multi-elemental: fire, air, and water."

Severus couldn't have heard her correctly. It was rare for a wizard to control one element, never mind two... and the Potter brat could control three.

"He can... control... lightning?" Severus struggled to say the words.

Lily looked haggard for just a moment and he wondered what Potter Manor had been like before they managed to teach their oldest child to control his talents.

She nodded, "He can control lightning, storms, temperature, and then the three elements each on their own. He almost burned down the Manor once. His control is almost perfect now, but if he gets too upset or angry, or even excited..."

"Temperature...," Severus's mind flashed back to the sorting and a few moments just after Harry Potter had been sorted when it almost felt like a dementor had entered the hall.

Lily winced, "He slipped already?"

"It was less than a minute," Severus assured her.

"I should go before the students start getting up," Lily put down her tea cup and stood. "I wouldn't want to embarrass Harry, and I shouldn't leave Remus with the kids for too long. He hasn't been feeling well."

Severus refrained from comment as he stood and escorted her to the door, which he held open for her.

"It was good to see you, Severus," Lily smiled and gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before she left.

"Take care," Severus responded, doubting he would see her again for several months unless Harry inherited his father's propensity for trouble. The Potter heir had been sorted into Slytherin though...

Thoughts of Harry Potter and his extraordinary talents plagued Severus until breakfast. He watched his first years come into the hall, and noted a definite split between them that probably only a Slytherin could see. There were the Draco Malfoy followers and the Harry Potter followers.

Malfoy had a larger group, but Potter did not seem to care. The first years naturally sat so that Malfoy and Potter were as far apart as they could possibly be. These children had all been taught political games by their parents along with their alphabet and numbers.

Breakfast was as normal as it ever was at Hogwarts. There was the occasional popping sound accompanying a transfiguration forced by prank at the Gryffindor table. The first year Ravenclaws were anxiously trying out some spells in anticipation of their first classes. Hufflepuffs were giggling. The Slytherins were talking amongst themselves in low tones.

Severus could not stop himself from watching Potter closely. The boy was quiet, watching the others around him and only speaking a few times while the rest of the first years chatted excitedly. Already very small for his age, some of the things Potter did seemed to be in an effort to make him appear even smaller.

Normality, or what passed for it, was interrupted with the arrival of post. Severus did not recognize the owl that carried the large red envelope with smoke coming off it, but he had no need to. There was only one student who was likely to receive a Howler so early in the year, though one for the Weasley twins would not have surprised him.

His suspicions were confirmed when he looked at his table and saw Potter's eyes were locked on the owl. No doubt the boy was wondering which one of the Marauders had heard of his sorting and reacted so quickly. Severus was putting his money on Black. Potter had, though Severus hated to admit it, matured considerably since their school days, and Lupin was never one for big public displays. He was much more subtle in showing his displeasure.

Eyes all over the hall watched eagerly as Harry Potter gingerly lifted the flap of the envelope. It rose into the air and a voice boomed out.

"HAROLD JAMES POTTER! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? SLYTHERIN? A _POTTER _IN _SLYTHERIN_? YOU... I... HOW DID... WHAT... YOUR FATHER..."

It was Black, and he had made the grievous error of using a dictation quill to compose his letter. The magnified voice stammered for a bit longer before it was interrupted by another voice, one that was almost always subdued. It was strange hearing it so loud.

"PUT THE QUILL DOWN, SIRIUS.

"WHY SHOULD I, REMUS?

"HE'S YOUR GODSON. TRY SUPPORTING HIM."

Potter's eyes had widened just slightly and his eyebrows were arched. Several people were laughing.

"BUT _SLYTHERIN, _REMUS...

"HARRY IS NOT YOU THANK MERLIN, AND HE IS NOT JAMES."

Severus could practically see the wicked smile forming on the werewolf's face.

"HE IS MUCH MORE CUNNING THAN EITHER OF YOU EVER WERE.

"IS NOT!

"HOW OLD ARE YOU, PADFOOT?" The voice was teasing now.

Severus made a mental note of the two identical gasps from the Gryffindor table. He instantly wondered what the Marauders had left behind for those two menaces to find and knew he never wanted to find out.

"REMUS!"

Until that moment, Severus had never heard anyone whine in a Howler. He saw that another owl had dropped several letters off for Potter.

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD, PADFOOT." Lupin's voice was stern and commanding. He had changed since Hogwarts, when he would never stand up to his friends. "PERHAPS YOU RECALL A CERTAIN HOWLER YOU RECEIVED AFTER YOUR SORTING? DO YOU WANT ME TO START COMPARING YOU TO YOUR MOTHER?" His tone lightened and became slightly patronizing. "NOW, APOLOGIZE TO HARRY AND GET READY FOR WORK. YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE AGAIN."

There was silence for a moment, and most of the students probably thought the Howler was finished, but it hadn't destroyed itself yet. Potter was finally starting to laugh with the rest of the students, or at least his eyes were. The rest of his face showed almost no other reaction.

"THE QUILL IS STILL ON?

"YES, PADFOOT.

"ERM... UH... SORRY, HARRY.

"GOOD BOY, NOW GO TO WORK."

Severus could almost swear he heard the werewolf patting Black on his head and would have loved to see it.

"REMUS." The tone was warning.

"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME?"

Neville Longbottom was in hysterics at the Gryffindor table and Severus remembered something about the two boys being tutored together. He had probably witnessed many scenes like the one the whole hall was hearing.

There was no answer to the question and Severus could picture the pout on Black's face. Lupin's voice continued.

"I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU, HARRY, AND SO ARE YOUR PARENTS. WE'RE ALL SURE, EVEN YOUR IDIOT OF A GODFATHER, THAT YOU'LL BE A CREDIT TO SLYTHERIN.

"I AM NOT AN IDIOT.

"PRESERVE AT LEAST A LITTLE DIGNITY, PADFOOT? AND DON'T POUT."

With that, the Howler burst into flame.

Minerva McGonagall leaned over to Severus. He was sure she was disappointed in Potter's sorting, having expected the son of two of her favorites to be sorted into the same house as his parents.

"A Potter in Slytherin," she smiled in a way that brought to mind her animagus form. "Are you sure you don't want to retire now, Severus?"

"Would you like a bowl of cream, Minerva?" Severus responded. "I hear it gives you a nice shiny coat."

Minerva's smile did not change, "Why thank you, Severus. I didn't think you were so thoughtful."

"Children," Albus teased from the other side of Minerva. When there were no students in hearing range Albus did have a tendency to treat his employees as though they were all still twelve years old.

Of course, he had known each one of them at that age.

Severus decided then not to share Lily's visit with the Headmaster. He would let Albus hold in the information about the Potter brat and then tell his wily employer that he knew all along when Albus finally tried to surprise him.

The Head Boy for that year was one of his Slytherins and Severus beckoned the boy over before the end of the meal. He handed over the schedules for distribution and headed down to his classroom to prepare it for the first year Gryffindor and Slytherins. One of these years Severus would find out why Albus insisted on putting those two houses together in the most dangerous class they took.

Once he assured his classroom was ready Severus made himself scarce. After all, he had to make the proper impression on the brats.

He began with his customary welcoming speech, noting which students looked eager, and which looked terrified at the prospects of the class. Surprisingly, Potter only looked thoughtful. He wondered what tales the boy had been told about him.

"Mr. Potter," half the classroom jumped at his sudden change in tone, "I trust you can tell us the difference between Monkshod and Wolfsbane?"

The bushy-haired Gryffindor girl, Granger, Severus recalled from the sorting, bounced up and down with her hand in the air. _Wonderful, an eagle in lion's skin._

"Yes, sir," Potter shot an uneasy glance at the bouncing Gryffindor and edged away from her slightly, "they're the same plant sir, in the Aconite family."

"Five points to Slytherin," Severus awarded the child of his old nemesis, with an internal shudder. His mind echoed the sentiments of the students from the night before, _a Potter in Slytherin._ He was tempted to hex the sorting hat.

"Mr. Longbottom," Severus selected the Gryffindor sitting between Potter and Granger, wondering absentmindedly what effect on house politics the friendship of the two boys would have, "where would look if I should want a bezoar?"

"I-i-in...," Longbottom stuttered with obvious fear in his eyes. Severus glared at the boy and heard a rhythm being tapped out quietly. Potter was giving his friend an encouraging look... and both his hands were below the table. Longbottom swallowed, "a goat's stomach sir."

He was surprised at the turnabout but ignored it, "Mr. Malfoy, what use could I have for a bezoar?"

"They will cure most poisons sir," Malfoy looked smug.

_Yes,_ Severus thought, _Lucius would have taught him that._ At least five of the boy's direct ancestors had met their end by poison, probably from their own kin.

"Another five points for Slytherin. What are you all waiting for?" Severus snapped at the class. "Write this down!"

The sudden frantic scratching of quills on parchment brought a smirk to his face. This set of students was properly cowed. He lectured for the rest of the session. He could wait another few days to find out which ones would be causing explosions and meltdowns.

"Slytherins stay," Severus said quietly, after the first Gryffindors had already bolted out of the room. He saw Potter nod to Longbottom, and the last of Minerva's students left. "I will be meeting with each of you individually next week to discuss your progress. The schedule will be posted in your common room. Do not arrive late to your appointment."

As they did each year, his Slytherins waited a few minutes before figuring out that he was done with them. They all tried to be dignified as they hurried out of the room, headed for their next class.

Severus's satisfaction was short-lived.

"Give that back, Fred!"

"I'm not Fred, I'm George!"

The first voice responded, and Severus recognized it to belong to Angelina Johnson, third year chaser for the Gryffindor quidditch team, "I don't care which one you are, George, just give it back!"

"Just kidding," Severus didn't bother. He would never be able to tell the Weasley twins apart and didn't need to. He never used their first names anyway. "I am Fred."

There was a half-scream, half-growl of frustration, "You two are infuriating!"

"I didn't do anything!" The other twin defended himself. "Will I always be guilty by association?"

_Of course you will be,_ Severus thought along with everyone else who heard. _There is nothing innocent about either one of you._

The tall black girl was glaring at both redheads as they entered the classroom, followed by the other Gryffindors of their year who were trying, and failing, not to show their amusement. Johnson snatched a piece of parchment out of the hands of either Fred or George and stalked to her seat, followed by the other remaining Gryffindor chaser, Alicia Spinnett. The Gryffindor team needed both a chaser and a seeker that year.

Some year Severus would find out why Albus and Minerva had to torture him the way they did.

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Please Review!

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reposted: 8/28/08


	5. Chapter 5

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**Chapter Five**

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Harry's first week of classes was in a way disappointing, because Remus had already taught them a good deal of what they would learn in their first few years at Hogwarts, at least where Transfiguration and Charms were concerned. The other class that Remus' lessons had put Harry and Neville far ahead of their peers in was Defense.

His father's mentor from when he trained as an Auror, Alastor Moody, had even taken a turn at teaching the two boys some defense skills. Harry had a suspicion that he could take the Defense O.W.L. already and pass. If Neville studied beforehand and was given the right test environment he would probably pass as well.

For the briefest moment while sitting on the stool after the sorting hat had yelled out 'Slytherin', Harry had been terrified that Neville would reject him. He should have known better.

The other Gryffindors he had met before the sorting were a different matter altogether. They either completely ignored him or, like Ron Weasley who had been in their compartment on the train, gave him looks like he had somehow betrayed them by getting sorted into Slytherin. He could have ignored it, but every time Weasley looked at him like that Harry thought of his godfather.

Though it made him a bit ashamed, he was glad that the centuries old Malfoy-Weasley feud was alive and well. So long as Malfoy and Weasley were constantly insulting each other Harry could try to blend into the background.

The Slytherins that Harry had tentatively befriended, Zabini, Davis, and Greengrass, seemed to be of the same mindset as him. They'd let Malfoy spout off his ridiculous pureblood supremacy ideologies and just stay silent, neither publicly backing nor denouncing their fellow Slytherin.

The first year Slytherins all moved around the castle together, even if there were two distinct groups there. They went from class to class together, used two adjoining tables in the library to study, and even watched the Slytherin quidditch team tryouts in the stands together.

Harry and Malfoy definitely did not like each other. They were coldly polite in public and stayed as far away from each other as possible. At the quidditch tryouts they found they had nothing there to argue about. They both agreed that the team was doomed that year. The only potentials to fill the Seeker position were pathetic. Their hesitant agreement did nothing to curb the animosity.

Malfoy had been the first to meet with Snape, though Harry was not at all surprised. After all, Snape was Malfoy's godfather. The Prince line, Snape's mother's line, had sprung from an illegitimate Malfoy sometime around the eighth century and the two families still treated each other as kin. There was some story about an arranged marriage that never happened and a servant girl and a midnight duel. It was all wild speculation, but entertaining all the same.

Harry stood outside Snape's office, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed while he thought about his week and waited. He twirled his wand in his right hand as he thought, a habit he had picked up from his father. It looked casual, but was a good way to have his wand at the ready if he needed it.

There was a sound from the office and Harry immediately stood up straight and held his wand loosely at his side. Malfoy gave Harry a superior smirk as he left Snape's office. Harry just rolled his eyes at the other boy.

"I see you put more store in punctuality than your father," Snape commented from just inside the office.

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed honestly.

It drove him crazy sometimes that James Potter could be counted on to be at least ten minutes late for anything, with Sirius Black following five minutes later. Harry was well aware that his mother always gave the two Aurors different times for the start of parties or trips than she gave to everyone else so that they would get there on time. Still, they always managed to arrive late.

Snape closed the door behind Harry and set up silencing spells. Harry took the seat across from Snape's desk that was obviously intended for a student.

"I want it understood, Mr. Potter," Snape leaned forward in his seat and looked Harry directly in the eye, "that there will be no recreation of your father's little club in my House."

Harry nodded, "I had no intention to, sir. I get enough attention as it is."

The look that crossed his Head of House's face was both curious and calculating. Harry had heard enough Marauder tales to know that his father had been a glory hound at Hogwarts, always trying to be the center of attention. Harry was naturally somewhat shy, and from the few times he went out in public undisguised he knew that he hated being in the spotlight.

He also knew from the stories he heard that Snape was the most frequent victim of the Marauders, and that something big had happened their fifth year which exposed Remus's lycanthropy to Snape, almost got Sirius expelled, and nearly destroyed the Marauder's friendship. It had also put Snape in a life debt to James Potter and so Harry had a few guesses. Of course, Snape had given as good as he got on most occasions. James Potter had the scar on his cheek to prove it, however faint it was.

Establishing trust between Harry and his Head of House would be a long, arduous task. Neither of them trusted easily.

"Are you having any difficulty with your classes?" Snape asked him.

"No, sir," Harry answered honestly.

"I understand Lupin tutored you?" Snape spoke Remus's name with a touch of venom.

Harry did his best to ignore the tone, "Yes, sir. He taught Neville and me, and teaches my little brothers and sister."

Snape's eyes were narrow with distaste for the Marauder, "What did he teach you?"

That was a delicate area. Technically, the Potters and Neville had learned far more than they were supposed to know, "Mostly the basics sir, though we didn't really do anything with potions. Neville and cauldrons don't mix." Harry noted that Snape looked up to the ceiling for an instant, probably in dread. "Remus isn't all that fond of potions either, the smells."

There was a slight flinch, almost undetectable, "And you?"

Harry shrugged, "I never really got a chance to find out. Once Neville melted his first cauldron and Brie set off some fireworks we were all banned from the kitchen level by the house elves." He almost laughed at the memory but didn't want to get on Snape's bad side. "Mum is the only one allowed in now."

"I will not have any of my Slytherins failing my class," the warning was implicit in Snape's tone. "If you appear to be struggling, I will assign a tutor."

"That seems logical, sir," Harry smiled just a bit.

If there was one thing Harry definitely liked about Snape so far it was that the man didn't treat him like a celebrity. Professor Flitwick had fallen off his stool in excitement when they met, Professor Quirrell's stutter worsened dramatically, and there was something in Professor McGonagall's eyes that disturbed Harry, like he had a terminal disease or something. Even the sixth year who was supposed to be his mentor was in awe of him. Harry had been avoiding him ever since they met.

The two of them sat there for moment, neither of them saying a word, measuring each other with their eyes.

"Your mother stopped in to see me," Snape said casually, as if to gauge Harry's reaction.

Harry raised his eyebrows. He knew his father and godfather still couldn't stand Snape, and that his mother and Remus had both attempted to befriend him though his mother was the only one who had made any progress there. James Potter would not be happy if he found out his wife visited his schoolyard nemesis. He'd probably pout for days once he learned of it and let everyone in the Manor know exactly how unhappy he was.

"She must have had a good reason," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Indeed she did," Snape replied. He stood and crossed the room and Harry twisted in his chair to follow him with his eyes. Never let anyone you don't fully trust out of your sight, Sirius had told him more times than he could count.

It was well that he did, because otherwise he might have missed the jet of flame that headed in his direction.

Fortunately for Harry he had been able to control fire for years. It was his dominant element and the one that he accidentally let loose most often as a toddler. In a fit of jealousy after Brie was born Harry had set fire to his bedroom. That was when Remus moved into the Manor and the lessons on control stepped up to every day, almost all day until Harry got himself under control.

The flame did not hit Harry or anything else in the room. He concentrated as it headed towards him and it went directly to his outstretched hand. Harry made the fire wrap around his arm and twist around and up to his shoulder and neck like a snake before it disappeared leaving only a trail of black smoke.

"I won't accidentally burn the castle down sir," Harry commented with a hint of amusement.

"Indeed," Snape replied dryly, "and will you drown us all in our sleep?"

Harry lifted his eyebrows and studied the expression of his Head of House. He knew by then, of course, why his mother had visited. Snape seemed to have perfect control over his facial features, from the almost coal black eyes, to the long and crooked nose, to the thin lips pressed together in what looked like a frown.

The lips tilted up ever so slightly at the very ends though, making it a bit more of a smirk than a frown. Harry almost smiled. He liked Snape's slightly morbid sense of humor and was not at all surprised that his father and godfather never paid close enough attention to the man to see it.

"As the Slytherins are the only ones who live below ground level... and I assume your quarters are down here too...," Harry tried to look like he was thinking hard, "would that make me Head of Slytherin if you did all drown one night?"

There was a soft snort, the only sound Harry suspected he would ever hear from the Potions Master that even remotely resembled a laugh.

Harry stood up to go, but Snape stopped him before he got to the door.

"Potter," Snape said with less animosity than Harry would expect to go along with that name, "as your Head of House I am here should you have any problems... of any sort."

Harry knew that Snape would have noticed during the feast, so he might as well say it, "After the sorting sir... my scar hurt."

"This is irregular?" Snape's eyes had narrowed again.

Harry nodded, "It almost never does that. I've only ever felt it after waking up from a nightmare... about that night."

"You remember?" Snape seemed fascinated.

Harry was at the door then and he shivered as he thought of it, though he wasn't actually cold. His body never got cold. "Only in dreams, and all I remember when I wake up is green light, lots of green light."

Harry was out the door before Snape could say anything else. He nodded to Goyle, who tried to sneer but looked more like he was constipated. In the common room Harry shook off Zabini and the girls and headed up to bed. With his curtains closed and warded against intrusion Harry took out some parchment and a quill. He wrote a letter to Brie, now the oldest of the Potter siblings in the Manor.

After Neville, who was like a twin, Brie was Harry's closest friend. She knew almost everything about him, even that one thing that he'd never told Neville or his parents. Once he had written about his week, told her about the other students he had met, and requested that she give Remus a hug and play a good prank on Sirius in retaliation for him, he felt his tension ease away and fell asleep.

The animosity between Harry and Malfoy did not get resolved quickly. They were like shredded mandrake root and essence of belladonna, a combination Professor Snape assured them would cause an explosion, of which Neville then gave an unintentional practical demonstration. They were like werewolves and silver, vampires and wooden stakes, fire and water... well not quite. Harry Potter was one of the few people who actually knew what happened when pure fire and pure water were mixed.

Putting it simply, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy did not get along. Most of the school was not at all aware of their extreme distaste for each other, but in Slytherin it was a well known fact.

Both boys had listened to their Head of House and kept their disagreements in-house. They were polite to each other in public, but hexes had flown more than once in their common room and dormitory. There were more wards surrounding their beds and personal belongings than there were on any others in the school, with the possible exception of those of Professor Snape.

It was one of those arguments, saved for the privacy of their House, that was entertaining the upper-year students after the first flying lesson for the first years. Neville's magic had a tendency to give sporadic short bursts which were nearly impossible to control. As a result, Neville was not good with brooms.

"What were you thinking?" Malfoy yelled as soon as Harry got back from the lecture Professor Snape gave him, followed by a meeting with Marcus Flint who was right behind Harry as he walked into Slytherin.

Harry couldn't stop the smirk that crossed his face. The end result of the whole incident was better than anything he could have possibly hoped for, but he could have done without the lecture. Snape only favored his Slytherins in public. In private he could be extremely harsh with them as Harry had just learned.

"I was thinking," Harry said slowly and calmly, knowing it would drive Malfoy nuts, "that every time a professor's back is turned you just have to pick a fight with the Gryffindors and lose points for Slytherin. _I_ want us to actually have a chance at the House Cup."

Harry could see that quite a few spectators agreed with him. In nearly every lesson they had with the Gryffindors Malfoy had already lost points for provoking Weasley. No one would say a word though, as they were all either afraid of Malfoy's father or hoping to impress him so they could use his influence when they graduated.

"Since you're the one who got caught," Malfoy smirked back, "it will be your fault if we lose."

"I think not," Harry replied mysteriously. "Now if you'll excuse me I have to write home."

Harry caught the amused expression in Flint's eye as he headed up towards the dorm. The others had turned back to whatever they had been doing beforehand, entertainment over. Once the door closed behind Blaise Zabini, who had followed Harry upstairs, Harry burst into peals of laughter.

The dark haired Italian wizard sat on the edge of Harry's bed and raised an eyebrow, "So are you going to tell me what happened? I take it you didn't get expelled."

Blaise had fallen into the 'friend' category by the second month of classes, along with Tracey Davis and Maya Greengrass. Harry didn't trust them nearly as much as he did Neville, but they were fun and didn't have a problem with Neville joining them in the library, or with visiting Hagrid. They even were willing to try and figure out what had been almost stolen from Gringotts. It had to be hidden in Hogwarts on that forbidden third story corridor. Harry was convinced.

He shook his head and tried to look serious and solemn, but Harry was no better than his father at hiding that much amusement, "I've been sworn to secrecy."

"Harry!" Blaise glared.

"Alright, alright," Harry flopped onto his bed and grinned at his friend, "but you can't tell a soul."

The next morning at breakfast an oblong package was delivered by Hedwig. Every pure-blood in the hall, and most of the older muggle-born students as well, immediately knew what it was. Harry could only just barely hold in his laughter at the look on Malfoys's face. He knew the other Slytherin was just dying to get Harry in trouble, but not willing to make their Head of House angry.

_Harry,_

_Do not open this package at the table. Your mother thought you shouldn't be rewarded for breaking the rules, but your father and godfather couldn't help themselves. I took the liberty of sending this with Hedwig while they were all arguing. That owl of yours has excellent instincts. She just showed up at the perfect time._

_You got lucky, Cub. Don't get caught next time._

_Love,_

_Remus_

By the time Harry was done reading Neville had made his way over from the Gryffindor table.

"No way!" Neville's eyes were wide.

Harry just snatched up the box and motioned for his friends to follow him out of the hall. They found the closest empty classroom and Harry ripped open the package.

"Wow," Tracey said in awe.

Harry was speechless. The wood was gleaming, the twigs perfectly aligned. He had drooled over the advertisement in _Quidditch Monthly_ but had never been that close to a Nimbus 2000 before.

"What did Snape say to you?" Neville demanded.

Blaise immediately adopted a superior looking expression, as he knew before Neville did, and Harry just sighed. Tracey and Maya looked curious. Harry fished the Rememberall out of his bag and tossed it to Neville.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker," Harry announced proudly. "You just can't tell anyone else, Neville. Flint wants me to be his secret weapon."

Neville nodded and Harry knew no one else in Gryffindor would find out. After all, he and Neville had several secrets... much more serious than anything about Hogwarts quidditch.

"Gotta run," Neville smiled. "You can all be late for Potions, but Snape would flay me and use my skin for his potions if I was." The pudgy blond dashed out of the room.

The Slytherins followed the same path at a more dignified pace, stopping off at their dorms to drop off Harry's new broom. They slipped into the Potions classroom just as class was starting and took their seats.

As usual, Harry partnered with Neville, deflecting at least a little of Snape's ire towards Gryffindors in general and Neville in particular. He had a feeling that if he had been sorted into Gryffindor like he had wanted that nearly all Snape's wrath would have been focused on him.

Neville got picked on enough as it was, both by Snape and Harry's Housemates, and his terrible memory made him even more likely a target. Harry was positive that the main reason Malfoy picked on Neville was to irritate Harry. Snape probably couldn't stand Neville's timid nature in his class and tendency to destroy any potion he was working on. Snape had already subtracted points from Neville and given points to Harry for a potion they worked on together.

It was no surprise that Neville practically fled the room with the other Gryffindors the instant that Snape dismissed them. The Slytherins went about packing their things away more casually and, much to Harry's irritation that gave Malfoy the opportunity he was looking for.

"Professor Snape!" Malfoy called out, darting his eyes towards Harry for just an instant. The pale blond looked very self-satisfied.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape drawled, much less harshly than he normally would as only Slytherins were present and everyone there knew that he was the blonde's godfather. Apparently, Harry saw, that didn't mean he would put up with any nonsense from Draco in this semi-private setting.

"Potter got a broom, sir!" Malfoy announced smugly, most likely expecting Harry to end up with a month of detentions.

Harry sighed and shook his head, trying to ignore the scene as he started to head out of the room.

"Do you believe that I am blind, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape said quietly.

At that Harry stopped to watch. This was going to be too good to miss. The rest of the Slytherins stood still as statues.

"No, sir," Malfoy suddenly looked unsure and glanced back at Harry, who smiled mockingly and gave a little wave.

"Was I at breakfast this morning?" Snape's tone seemed mild but everyone there knew that Malfoy was only moments away from a lengthy lecture.

"Yes, sir," Malfoy gulped.

"Then you can be assured that I am quite aware of Potter's latest acquisition." The dark gaze took in the rest of the first year Slytherins, all silently watching and waiting. Snape's eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a low hiss, "If my House loses so much as one point when you are all late for Transfiguration I will have every one of you scrubbing this room from top to bottom _without magic_. Then you will learn precisely what it is your house elves do all day!"

They all cringed and darted out of the room as quickly and as dignified as possible. Unfortunately, the two did not mix well and dignity was sacrificed with the prospect of angering their Head of House.

By that point in the school year, it was well known in Slytherin that Harry knew of an unusually large number of secret passages and shortcuts through the castle. The hints from his father and uncles had been enhanced by his ability to sense air currents. All his classmates quickly fell behind him and he led them through a series of paths behind portraits and statues and out to an unused classroom next door to the Transfiguration classroom.

Harry did his best to ignore the death glares Malfoy was shooting at him the whole time. Once they were in the presence of other Houses though Malfoy's expression was blank, and Harry's remained pleasant the whole time.

The minute hand on the clock clicked into place just as the last winded Slytherin took her seat and politely nodded at the professor.

McGonagall looked down at them over her glasses, "I advise all of you to allow a bit more time between classes from this point forward, should you not wish to suffer my extreme displeasure. Wands out!"

A yawn threatened. There was a part of Harry that wondered if his classes, apart from potions, would ever challenge him.

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reposted: 8/28/08


	6. Chapter 6

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**Chapter Six**

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If it weren't for the Potter boy's looks, Severus could almost swear his parents were Lily Evans and Remus Lupin, not Lily and James. Then there was the fact that lycanthropy was hereditary and the heir to the Potter family most certainly was not a werewolf.

It did make sense to some degree. Potter was an Auror, as of about five years before he was Head Auror, and therefore was away from home all day and many nights. If Lupin started tutoring the younger Potter before he was out of diapers, which seemed to be the case, then Potter would have seen more of the werewolf than of his father and taken on some of his characteristics.

Severus had been fully prepared to hate the child of James Nathaniel Potter, just as he still hated the child's father. Everything had fit perfectly into Severus's world at first. Apart from the eyes and stature Potter Jr. was a carbon copy of Potter Sr.

Then the sorting hat had nearly given Severus a coronary. Then Lily Potter had shown up at his door and reminded him that even if he had been horrible to her, Lily had always been kind to him. It was possible that she had passed that tendency onto her son.

The number of storms that passed over the castle at night unnerved Severus. Without a doubt Potter suffered from nightmares, but Severus never heard about them from any of his Slytherins.

After talking to Potter, and then seeing him fly, it was clear that he had combined elements of the three remaining Marauders, a bit of Lily, and come out with a truly Slytherin personality. He shied away from attention, was fiercely loyal to his friends, and had a sharp wit.

He was also the best flier Severus had seen in years. Harry Potter on the Slytherin Quidditch team would be well worth the complaints Severus was sure to hear from Lucius once Draco wrote home and complained. His godson was a good flier, but didn't have nearly as much raw talent as Potter did, and knowing Potter Sr. and Black not as much training either. Those two were obsessed.

Harry Potter was also becoming a valuable source of information. His trouble with his scar not only added onto the list of items that Severus found disturbing him that year, but also reinforced a suspicion he had been harboring. Quirenius had come back from his sabbatical almost a caricature of himself. Albus had immediately dismissed Severus's concerns, both in regards to Potter and Quirrell, with that damned twinkle in his eye.

Keeping the Sorcerer's Stone in Hogwarts was a mistake.

It was too much of a coincidence that Potter's scar and Severus's arm hurt at the same moment, and Severus did not believe in coincidence. He would just have to keep an eye on Quirrell himself… and look out for any Gryffindor tendencies that might spring up in Potter. Severus did not delude himself. He knew that the sorting hat must have been deciding between his House and Minerva's for the boy.

Halloween snuck up on the inhabitants of the castle and marked that the end of the term was nearing. The older students had a Hogsmeade weekend and Severus, insisting that he would not chaperone the brats, watched the Slytherin quidditch team practice. He had given those on the team above second year special permission to go into Hogsmeade on their own during the lunch hour. The new captain, Marcus Flint, wanted to take advantage of the majority of other players being off-grounds.

Potter flew like he had been born on a broom. If the first year was using his abilities to affect the wind at all, he was doing so to make flying more difficult for himself. While Severus did not entirely disapprove of cheating, he put a stop to anything not sneaky enough to get by him. Admittedly, if it weren't for Lily, Harry Potter would almost certainly be able to hide that talent from Severus.

The students were all rosy-cheeked and bubbling with excitement, though the Slytherins did their best to bubble in a dignified manner, as they poured into the hall for the feast. Ever since he had graduated from Hogwarts Severus disliked Halloween. The Dark Lord always saw it as a perfect opportunity to create some mayhem. Severus had some very bloody memories of Halloweens past.

It seemed that he was not the only one.

After scanning his table Severus searched the hall for his only missing Slytherin. It was not a difficult search, as the disapproving eyes of some of his students led him directly to Potter, sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table with Neville Longbottom. The dignified green and silver of his uniform was entirely out of place amongst all the bright and garish crimson and gold.

The two heads, one dark and one sandy, were bent together in conversation. The nearest Gryffindors looked like they didn't know what to make of this development, a Slytherin at their table, and on a feast night no less. The friendship between the boys had already caused problems in Gryffindor tower. The Gryffindor prefects had reported it in prefect meetings, and Minerva had brought it up in two separate staff meetings. Apparently Longbottom held his own rather well, with Granger behind him.

Severus met with the Slytherin prefects separately on a weekly basis. Slytherin problems were kept in-house, as no Slytherin trusted the other houses not to use their weaknesses against them. Malfoy was the only one who gave Potter much trouble beyond the mild glares of some of the older students, though there were others who backed the blond.

The two first years had already drawn wands on five separate occasions. According to his prefects, who usually let the students sort out their own differences unless things became dangerous, both boys were proficient in curses they shouldn't learn until sixth year, if ever. Thankfully, they were both also able to defend against those curses.

At the Gryffindor table, Potter and Longbottom looked solemn, a stark contrast to those around them. Longbottom looked shaky and Potter had a hand on his back. The attacks on both families had been on Halloween. While the world had been celebrating the anniversary of the downfall of the Dark Lord and the return of the Potters, a two year old child was being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. It was a miracle Longbottom wasn't a drooling vegetable in St. Mungo's.

There was a determined look in the eyes of both boys and yet again Severus wondered what the werewolf had taught them. Potter had been skillfully elusive when answering that question and Severus had decided not to push. He had seen that determined look before and it told him one thing for certain. Like Albus and Severus, the Potters and the Longbottoms believed that the Dark Lord would be back… and they were training their children for that eventuality.

Potter then broke out in a mischievous smile and fished a letter out of his pocket, passing it to Longbottom. A look appeared on the Longbottom boy's face that was close enough to Potter's to make the uninformed believe them to be brothers.

Unsurprisingly, and much to Severus's dread, the smiles attracted the attention of the Weasley twins, who often wore identical expressions of mischief. He had been waiting for something like that to happen ever since Black's howler. He wondered if Potter's inner-Marauder was about to break free.

Before any significant conversation could take place amongst them Quirenious burst into the hall.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!"

The idiot passed out, and Severus's eyes narrowed. He didn't wait around for Albus to put a halt to the panic. Quirenious had 'come to' and slipped out in the panic he created. Severus stepped back into the shadows and exited the hall through a back door.

When he got to the forbidden third floor corridor he found Quirenious entering the door that led to the protections on the Stone. As Severus opened the door Quirenious fled, just in time to escape three giant slobbering canine heads.

Severus turned as well, and tensed when teeth caught his leg. He shut the door with a well-aimed spell and sealed it before inspecting the damage to his leg, which was luckily minor.

He had received worse, but Quirenious and Hagrid would both pay for that. Why Albus let his gamekeeper keep such dangerous beasts in a school was beyond Severus's comprehension.

He caught up with the defense professor and was about to curse him into the next century if he didn't talk, but screams came from down the hall… the troll.

Potter and Weasley were glaring at each other in the ruins of a girls' lavatory while Longbottom comforted a shaking Granger. The troll was face-down on the floor and still, but breathing.

Minerva had been close enough to hear as well, and immediately demanded to know what happened upon her arrival on the scene.

"I… I thought I could handle the troll myself… because I've read about them…," Severus's eyes narrowed. Granger was a convincing liar. She hadn't even been at the feast, and so had no way to know the troll was in the school. "They saved me. Harry and Neville distracted it… and Ron knocked it out with its own club."

Severus let Minerva handle the situation while he watched Quirrell examine the troll. He heard Minerva take points from Granger and award them to all three boys. Granger had fooled her.

"Potter come with me," Severus commanded once Minerva was done lecturing them. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder for emphasis. Severus did not want Potter wandering the halls alone, not with Quirrell there.

"Yes sir," Potter flinched slightly at the touch but waved to Longbottom and Granger. Weasley only got a glare.

Once they were safely away in the dungeons Severus stopped and faced Potter, "Tell me what really happened."

Severus saw the smile that was only on Potter's face for a heartbeat before it was replaced by a smirk, "Earlier today Neville heard Weasley say something really cruel about Granger. She must have heard too because she was crying in the girls' room all afternoon. When everyone was headed back to their Houses Neville remembered Granger. The teachers were already gone, so we grabbed Weasley since it was his fault, and went to warn her about the troll. We saw it enter a room, locked it in, went to find the teachers, then realized it was the girl's bathroom."

Severus was definitely amused, but it wouldn't do to show it. Longbottom irritated Severus with his inadequacy at Potions and tendency to jump in fright whenever he heard Severus speak, but he loathed Weasley. The boy was prejudiced and thick-headed, like his older brother that had been made a prefect that year, but without the work ethic and ambition that made Percy Weasley the top student in his year.

"We went in to do what we could for Granger. Weasley nearly got himself killed by throwing debris at the troll, just making it angry. I distracted it while Neville helped Granger to safety and Weasley finally remembered what a wand is for. He got the troll's club with a levitation spell that failed at the perfect time... pure dumb luck on his part."

"And if Weasley hadn't knocked it out?" Severus tested his student.

Potter shrugged, "I had a few ideas, but the safest would've been to have everyone run like hell, lock the door, and get a professor."

The boy was definitely not a Gryffindor, Severus decided. 'Run like hell' was rarely thought of as honorable by Gryffindors until long after they graduated, but Slytherins had a keen survival instinct.

Severus watched Potter walk towards the entrance of the Slytherin common room and thought that perhaps having Potter in Slytherin might not be such a bad thing after all. It even had potential to raise the general public image of his House.

"Mr. Potter," Severus called out before the boy spoke the password.

Potter turned and gave him an apprehensive look. Severus noticed he was favoring his right side. The boy apparently did not escape the encounter with the troll unscathed, and had left out how his injury had come about in his telling... another Slytherin trait.

"Sir?"

"Try not to display those Gryffindor tendencies of yours too often?" Severus arched his eyebrows and smirked. "You _are_ a Slytherin Potter."

Potter's grin stretched brightly across his face, "Yes, sir."

Severus felt a little unfamiliar tug at the sides of his mouth. The next seven years would certainly be interesting... and Severus Snape had a front row seat.

Potter's first Quidditch game was not long after Halloween, and Severus made sure that he had a front row seat for that as well. He was, of course, sitting right next to Minerva. Their continuing rivalry was only going to get better as far as Severus was concerned, as the sorting hat had sent the boy who was to be her prize pupil into his House.

"Tell me Severus," Filius was standing on his seat to put him level with the others, "is Potter really that good? His father was talented I admit, but not so talented as to warrant bending the rules for him."

Severus just smirked, "You will see Filius."

He had been mysterious and superior regarding Potter's flying talent, dropping

hints and making cutting remarks in the staff lounge ever since Potter had been put on his team. He spent more time with his fellow professors than ever before, just to increase their curiosity to the point of distraction.

The players were announced and they sped out onto the field. Potter looked even smaller out there than he normally did. Severus made a mental note to ask Poppy about the boy, as she had been the Potter family Healer in addition to her work at Hogwarts ever since Lily and James had conceived Harry Potter. Neither of his parents had been that small.

All the professors around him were entranced at the small boy who was flying with seemingly no effort whatsoever, Minerva only pausing to yell at her announcer, third year Gryffindor Lee Jordan, whose mouth had a tendency to run ahead of his brain, granted he actually had a brain. The brainless Gryffindor was a commonly spotted inhabitant of Hogwarts.

Gryffindor was ahead. Their Chasers worked flawlessly together, and the Weasley twins probably shared one brain, which made them a perfect team of Beaters. Oliver Wood was an excellent Keeper and had potential to go professional. Their only weak point was their Seeker, a fifth year named Rebecca Fields, and Severus knew Minerva was cursing the Sorting Hat. She would have done anything to get Potter on her team, and he would have made them unbeatable. Severus had the Quidditch Cup sitting in his office for the fifth year running and intended to keep it there for some time.

When Potter's broom started jerking Severus felt his heart leap into his throat. No Nimbus would do that without interference of some sort... and no student had the knowledge or power to jinx a broom like that. Severus immediately started muttering under his breath, keeping eye contact with the broom at all times. He could feel his magic fighting against the interference on the broom. Potter's eyes grew wide for a moment and he was thrown, but kept one hand gripping the handle.

The boy's eyes narrowed and took on a look of determination. Severus saw wind whip around the small first year and knew that Potter was doing that, using his control over the air to keep himself from falling. There was no time to find out who was casting the jinx. Any lapse in concentration on Severus's part and Potter would at least be seriously injured.

Then they made eye contact. Potter looked in the professors' stands and locked eyes with Severus. The green eyes flashed with hurt and suspicion, but there was no time for Severus to worry about that. He could pull Potter aside later and reassure him.

Tendrils of smoke drifted through the air and the acrid smell of burning cloth reached Severus's nose.

"Severus you're on fire!" Filius exclaimed.

Severus cursed and looked down on reflex, extinguishing the flames quickly. Then he recalled why he couldn't get distracted and his eyes snapped back up. Potter was on his broom and diving towards the ground. Severus ignored the commentary and tried to still his racing heart. In those few moments before he found Potter again he had thought the boy had fallen.

Potter was safe on the ground, waving his hand in the air, and Severus could just barely make out the tiny white wings of the snitch peeking out from between his fingers.

"Potter has the snitch," Jordan announced in a disappointed tone. "That's 150 points to Slytherin and Slytherin wins 180-50."

Cheers erupted from the Slytherin stands. At any other time Severus would have been gloating to Minerva, but his priority just then was Potter. He pushed through his colleagues and students and when he got to the ground he saw Longbottom, Granger, Zabini, and Davis leading Potter towards Hagrid's hut, Hagrid several strides ahead of them all.

Potter looked back at him and Severus saw conflicting emotions. There was suspicion, and distrust. He stopped there. There was no way he would explain himself in front of the Gryffindors and that half-breed.

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	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter Seven**

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The letter from his dad said that everyone had the flu. There was no point in coming home for the winter holiday, as Harry would only get sick. There would be very little in the way of celebration at Potter Manor that year, just a quiet opening of presents and then probably sleeping all day in front of the fire or a movie. Lily Potter was extremely gifted with Charms and managed to charm a large number of muggle electronic items to work in a magical environment. Potter Manor had a television, VCR, and complete stereo system.

Harry almost wrote back and said he didn't care. He would live through the flu if it meant he got to see Brie and Alex and little Ian, and Siri and Remus, and his Mum and Dad. Harry had never been further than Longbottom Hall or Remus's cottage without his family, and only overnight a handful of times. Letters just weren't the same.

He was a Slytherin though, so he wouldn't show weakness. He wouldn't let anyone know he missed his family. So when the list for those staying at Hogwarts circulated at the Slytherin dinner table Harry nonchalantly put his name down. There were a grand total of five Slytherins staying, and all of the others were older students he didn't know beyond their names.

On the brighter side of things Harry had a chance to find out who Nicholas Flamel was, greatly encouraged by Neville and Hermione. Blaise, Tracey, and Maya were a little more reluctant to go poking their noses into the school's closely guarded secrets. Hagrid had slipped in his cottage the day after the Quidditch game, something that still made Harry shiver when he thought about it. That name was the only clue they had as to what was being hidden in the school.

Hermione had quickly become a close friend after thoroughly humiliating Harry by hugging him tightly and thanking him for saving her in front of a dozen other people. She had thrown herself heartily into the research to find out what secret Hogwarts was holding. The girl was convinced though that Snape was the one who had jinxed Harry's broom and Neville had readily agreed with her. His housemates who were helping in researching the mystery wouldn't voice an opinion one way or the other.

Harry himself was not so sure. He had seen the man staring and speaking, but there had been warring magics at work. He wanted to give his Head of House the benefit of the doubt, but there was also the deeply ingrained habit not to trust anyone outside the pack.

This could all be solved quickly if Harry wrote home, but the last thing he wanted was three enraged Marauders after a potentially innocent man. His dad and Siri would immediately believe Hermione and Neville and together would manage to convince Remus. Harry had never seen Remus defending a member of his pack but did not doubt it was a frightening spectacle.

It had to be a teacher that jinxed his broom, and what teacher would want Harry dead? He couldn't fathom it despite knowing that there were scores of wizards and witches out there who gladly do away with him if they got the chance. Luckily most of them were in Azkaban. The thought of one of his professors being among them was uncomfortable at the very least. It was bad enough knowing that the parents of several of his housemates were part of that group.

Neville hugged Harry and smiled at him, "We'll all be back before you know it... and you have almost the whole castle to yourself."

"Don't get into trouble Harry," Hermione hugged him as well. Harry had said his good-byes to Blaise and Tracey and Maya in the common room. "Look for Flamel if you have a chance. I'm _sure_ I've read his name somewhere."

"Me too," Harry sighed. All the research in the world wasn't getting them anywhere and he had a feeling that spending more time in the library wasn't the answer to this particular problem.

"Hermione," Neville suggested, "you can ask your parents if they've heard of him. That would be safe. They wouldn't contact Dumbledore like ours might."

"Yes it would be safe," Hermione's voice was tight in her disapproving tone, "and rather pointless seeing as they're both dentists."

"Happy Christmas," Harry interrupted before Neville started stuttering some reply. "I'll send Hedwig with your presents."

Hermione and Neville got on the train and waved at him as it started to pull away from the station, "Happy Christmas Harry!"

Harry wasn't spending his Christmas quite as alone as he thought. As he headed back towards the castle he was immediately pounced upon by identical bouncing red blurs.

"Harry mate...," Fred started in a wheedling tone.

George smiled beseechingly, "Who are Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs Harry?"

It was that one name that put him in a foul mood and had prevented the twins from learning anything from him, or from Neville. Of course, Neville had just stuttered and feigned ignorance when they cornered him. Harry suspected that his friend's fluster had been at least a little feigned. Appearing harmless was something both of them had down perfectly.

"Don't mention that rat around me again!" Harry said, glaring at the Weasley twins.

He wondered if anyone else had learned to tell them apart like he did. So many people seemed to confuse them easily but they were really quite different. They clearly had different magical strengths, just slightly different freckle patterns, and Fred tended to be the leader of their conversations with others.

They both looked confused at his reaction. It was the first time they had asked him without a crowd of people around and so Harry was free to react to Pettigrew's nickname, never mentioned in the Potter household.

"But Harry, how can we do that..."

"...if we don't know who you're talking about?"

Harry sighed and counted to ten in his head. He focused on his magic and made sure he was calm, "Alright, but not here, not where anyone can hear us, and you're telling me everything you know first."

The redheads nodded eagerly and each of them took hold of one of Harry's hands. They dragged him to a part of the castle Harry had never visited, but he knew where he was. The portrait that guarded the Gryffindor common room had been described to Harry countless times.

George whispered the password while Fred made a show of covering Harry's ears with his hands. Harry just rolled his eyes and submitted. Secretly he was intrigued. It was rare for anyone to see a House that was not their own.

"What are you two doing?" Another, taller redhead demanded of them. "He doesn't belong in here!"

The prefect badge told Harry that this was one of the older brothers Ron Weasley had mentioned on the train.

Fred rolled his eyes, "There's no rule that says we can't invite him in."

"It's not like we gave him the password or anything," George added.

"Anyway Percy, both his parents were Gryffindor!" Fred finished their argument.

Percy still looked disapproving, "I'll be mentioning this to McGonagall."

"Go ahead..." Fred grinned, victory was theirs.

"...see what we care," George's grin was identical.

"C'mon Harry," Fred gave him another tug.

"Keep an eye on him!" Percy ordered. "I want one of you with him at all times."

Harry sneered at the prefect. The boy was just too arrogant, "Nice meeting you too Percival."

The twins dragged Harry up to their dorm room, which was easily the messiest room Harry had ever been in. Even Sirius had learned how to pick up after himself, at least while he was at the Manor, rather than suffer through lectures from Harry's mother. Thinking on it, Harry had never been to the townhouse in London that his godfather only occupied infrequently, usually when he was dating someone that hadn't passed the 'Harry test', even though he had been to Remus's cottage.

Fred and George seemed to be perfectly at home amongst the piled clothes, parchment, and books. Both of them sprawled across their remarkably messy beds with no apparent concern for the belongings they were wrinkling, crushing, and quite possibly suffocating. Harry found a trunk near theirs that at least looked clean and sat down.

"You two first," Harry ordered and crossed his arms, looking at the older boys expectantly.

They exchanged a look and George dashed to the door. He peeked outside and then shut the door firmly before returning to his reclined position on his bed, "No one."

Harry raised his eyebrows at their antics, but took out his wand and cast a privacy ward on the room. Both boys looked at him with wide eyes and mouths.

"How do you..."

"...know that spell?"

"You first, remember?" Harry was enjoying toying with them. No wonder Malfoy was constantly baiting their younger brother. Weasleys had great facial expressions.

Another exchanged look, and then Fred opened one of their trunks, which was surprisingly neat inside. Harry recognized the marks of both Gambol and Japes and Zonko's on bags in the trunk. It must have been where they kept all their pranking supplies. He saw dungbombs, fireworks, and trick candies before the lid closed, along with several items he didn't recognize, all of them probably on Filch's list of banned objects.

"This is the secret to our success," Fred proudly announced, still hiding the object behind his back.

"We owe everything to the Marauders," George continued.

"We know Sirius Black is Padfoot..."

"...because of the Howler..."

"...but we can't figure out who the others are."

"Voila," George said as Fred brought out a folded piece of very old parchment. Harry knew immediately what it was, even before they handed it to him.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry pronounced as he tapped the parchment with his wand. Color swirled on the surface and then formed the words Harry knew would appear.

"How did you know..."

"...what to do?" George finished their question. They were more pleased and excited than surprised.

Harry smirked, "Sirius Black is my godfather. Moony, also known as Remus Lupin, was my tutor. Prongs is my dad."

"And Wormtail?" Fred asked quickly, both twins obviously having forgotten Harry's earlier irritation.

"Peter Pettigrew," Harry spat bitterly.

"Wormtail..."

"...a Marauder..."

"...is a Death Eater?" Fred and George looked equally horrified as they spoke the last words together.

Harry nodded, "All four of them were Gryffindors in the same class. Dad, Siri, and Pettigrew all became illegal animagi by their fifth year. Dad is a stag, Siri a grim-like dog, and Pettigrew is a rat," Harry snorted, "rather fitting isn't it?"

The twins nodded, "And Moony?"

Harry gave them a very stern look, "You have to promise me, no matter what you think about this, that you'll never tell a soul what I'm about to tell you."

It wasn't quite the secret it once was. Many people knew about Remus now, and with James Potter and Sirius Black behind him no one dared say a thing derogatory, but there was still some risk if the public at large found out. It wasn't all that long ago that there had been lynching of dark creatures. Remus had told Harry that he could always tell anyone he thought was trustworthy if it came up.

"We swear...," Fred held up his right hand in pledge.

"...Marauder's honor," George said solemnly, mimicking his brother.

Harry let his eyes widen just a bit. These two had a serious hero-worship thing going on for the Marauders. It was almost too much. If the two of them didn't look so incredibly solemn he would have burst out laughing.

"He's a werewolf," Harry told them plainly.

"That is...,"

"...so..."

Harry waited for their final reaction.

"...cool!" they exclaimed together.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in telling stories, once the Map was wiped clean to protect it from unknowing eyes. The twins regaled Harry with tales of their exploits thus far, and their determination to start their own line of joke products. Harry repeated a few of the stories he had grown up with, much to the delight of the redheads. They went down to dinner together, Fred and George still questioning Harry on all the minute details of the Marauders that they could think of.

The break went much more quickly than Harry expected. His days were spent with the Weasley twins, exploring the castle with the Map, playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones. They had snowball fights and Harry took them out to visit Hagrid. The twins knew who Hagrid was, as all Hogwarts students did, but hadn't been to visit before, and they quickly made friends with the gentle bumbling half-giant. There were even a few nights when Harry slept in Gryffindor Tower, having stayed up far too late talking to return to Slytherin.

Christmas Day was like no other Christmas Harry could remember. He had some very vague memories of the Dursleys, and he knew that they hadn't gotten him anything that Christmas. He would never tell his parents, or Siri and Remus, about the only firm memories he had, about shivering in the dark or being hit and kicked by his cousin. He had nightmares about small, dark places and shrill voices. There were also nightmares he couldn't remember and he was sure he didn't want to remember them.

Harry shook himself out of his memories and looked at the presents stacked at the foot of his bed. There was the ever-present package of books from Remus. This year there was a potions book, reminding Harry that while he was passing he was still close to qualifying for a tutor. He could remember the facts pretty well, but his brewing was lacking something that he just didn't get.

There was clothing from his parents, a good thing seeing as what he had was already getting pretty worn. How he went through clothing they way he did was a mystery, and drove his mother crazy.

(There was one summer where he was on his final shirt and she threatened to make him go shirtless for the rest of the summer if he destroyed that last shirt. By the end of the summer it had a large hole and was more stain than its original color, and Harry still had absolutely no idea how that had happened.)

He could have sworn he kept one set of robes for potions class, but nearly all his robes had stains on them. His parents had always remarked that it was strange that Harry could have so much control over everything in his life, take such good care of his belongings, and still manage to destroy his clothing at such a rate.

Brie, Alex, and Ian made him a picture frame and put in a picture of the four Potter siblings taken just before Harry left for Hogwarts. They were on the rock that rose out of the lake behind the Manor. Alex, only six years old, would sneak up behind Brie and tickle her, making her fall into the water. Harry sat next to five year old Ian, who laughed at Brie as she splashed Alex and clapped his hands. Harry smiled and set the picture up on his nightstand.

After another day of games with the Weasley twins Harry expected to be exhausted. They had spent a good portion of the day figuring out the best way to pull a good prank on Ron, and eventually managing to get him to drink some pumpkin juice that turned his skin green. Combined with the Weasley flame red hair Ron Weasley was in perfect Christmas colors. That night though, Harry just couldn't sleep.

In his dorm he was usually the last one asleep and the first one awake. The Potter family always woke early. During her pregnancy with Alex, Lily Potter had discovered yoga, and would bring Harry and Brie to classes. It became common practice of the whole family, except Harry's dad after a night shift, to wake early and do a yoga routine before breakfast. Harry continued the practice at Hogwarts, using the clear space in his dorm room.

After lying in bed for over an hour Harry gave up trying to sleep and got out of his bed. He opened his trunk and pulled out a package from the bottom. The silvery fabric slipped through his fingers almost like liquid silk. His father had passed the cloak along to him as the eldest Potter male, but Harry hadn't made use of it yet. It may have been all the time with the twins, or just that he missed his family. Whatever the motivation, Harry wrapped himself in the invisibility cloak and set off to wander the dark halls of the castle.

Between the yoga, the dancing lessons his parents had insisted on, and all his training Harry had learned to move almost silently. An invisibility cloak wasn't any good if the person under it had footsteps like an elephant. A person could be tracked by sound almost as easily as by sight. Harry had learned that from Sirius trying to sneak up on him.

Hogwarts was like an entirely different world in the moonlight, with the torches at their lowest flame and almost every inhabitant of the castle in their beds. The portraits were snoozing in their frames and oddly rattling snores escaped from a suit of armor every now and then. Harry didn't see a single ghost, though he knew they didn't sleep.

Somehow he wandered into a part of the castle he had never seen before. It shouldn't have been all that surprising. Magical buildings were constantly changing to some extent, and Hogwarts was the oldest magical building in the country still standing. Combined with the amount of magical energy released there everyday which would then be absorbed into the stones, and it was no wonder that very strange things happened on a regular basis.

Harry wandered into a classroom filled with moonlight. Looking outside he saw that there were only a few days until the moon was full and thought of Remus. Starting when he was four, Harry had kept track of the cycles of the moon almost obsessively. At age six he always had a restorative potion from the pantry ready for Remus whenever his uncle returned from his transformations. Remus Lupin was probably the most cared for lycanthrope in the world, with the entire Potter clan and Sirius and the Longbottoms looking after his welfare.

The cloak slipped to the floor and Harry stretched, starting to feel just a little tired. It was well past midnight when he turned around and drew his wand in shock, ready to dodge a curse, only to discover he was seeing his reflection out of the corner of his eye.

A free-standing mirror was the only furniture in the room apart from a few desks and chairs. He walked over to it carefully, knowing that in the magical world anything was possible. If he wasn't careful with an unfamiliar magical object he could get whisked into another dimension or something equally unfortunate.

Harry gasped just slightly and reached towards the mirror, stopping his fingers just before they brushed the surface, not stupid enough to actually touch it. His reflection wasn't him exactly, and there were other people there. The mirror Harry was smiling a nice carefree smile without the iron control that Harry had. There was no lightning bolt scar on his forehead and he was taller.

His whole family was there too, his parents and siblings, Sirius and Remus, and between them a shorter man that Harry had only seen in pictures. It was Pettigrew, the traitor, the rat. Sirius had an arm around him and they were all happy. Harry's grandparents were in the picture, and his father's cousins that had all died before Harry was born. He knew them all well by their portraits that hung in the Manor.

The next two nights Harry returned to gaze at what could have been, what his life might have been like without Voldemort. He saw the normal version of himself, without the strange powers and training and knowledge that no eleven year old should have.

It was on his third night that the Headmaster had revealed himself to Harry and they talked about the mirror. Something about the whole situation struck Harry as odd. His father had always said that Dumbledore knew more than he let on, and that almost nothing happened in Hogwarts that the Headmaster didn't learn of. Harry couldn't stop himself from wondering if Dumbledore knew who had tried to kill him, or at least hurt him. Until he spoke with the Headmaster that night he had almost forgotten what his parents had said about him.

And if Dumbledore knew, why hadn't he done anything about it?

Harry got to see his mother the day before the students returned. After breakfast he was summoned to the hospital wing, which he luckily had managed to avoid so far. Poppy was like family and all but he hated having to see her in her professional capacity.

"Harry!" Lily Potter called out and wrapped her son in tight hug.

Harry returned it with equal enthusiasm, not realizing quite how much he had missed her until just then, "Hullo Mum. What are you doing here?"

"I had to stop in and see Poppy," Lily smiled and brushed Harry's fringe off of his forehead. Harry noticed that Poppy, who had always tended to the injuries and sicknesses of the Potter children that Lily couldn't take care of, was not in the ward. Harry's mother held him at her side with one arm, his head resting on her shoulder. "I have some news."

"Hm?" Harry was content not to speak much.

"I'm pregnant," Harry could almost hear the smile in her words.

"Again?"

Mother and son both laughed at the exclamation, "I'm thinking of having your father fixed after this one. What do you think?"

Harry shook his head and scrunched up his face, "There is no way I'm answering that one, way too much information. Ouch."

All thoughts of the Headmaster's scheming and magical mirrors left Harry's mind and were replaced with the expectation of a new member of the family. Lily Potter stayed through lunch and Harry introduced her to the Weasley twins and they all discussed the year to date.

Harry felt like a tension had been lifted and was much more relaxed than in the days preceding. With the return of the other students his mystery returned, and they were no closer to discovering the identity of Nicolas Flamel or the object being guarded than they were before the holiday.

Harry wouldn't admit to anyone, not even himself, that he was worried about his mother. She had never had an easy time giving birth, had almost died in childbirth with Brianna, and then again with Sebastian. He had no idea how his mother could be so happy about being pregnant again with a history like hers.

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	8. Chapter 8

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**Chapter Eight**

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Sirius Black chuckled to himself as he opened the letter from his godson. Though he was still disturbed that Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, his godson was still his godson. After he cooled down Sirius had written a letter to Harry to apologize for the howler. It had taken two more letters before Harry had forgiven him, on paper at least. The boy had always been hard on him. Sirius didn't get away with anything where Harry was concerned.

Sirius was leaning back in his chair at his desk in Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic. As a team leader he was one of the few Aurors with an actual office and not just a cubicle, and therefore had some privacy. It wasn't like Harry to exaggerate or make outlandish claims, so when the outside of the scroll told Sirius to read the letter in private and not let the other Marauders or Lily see, Sirius did as he was told.

_Padfoot,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written much. The sorting hat surprised me as much as it did you, but I think I like it in Slytherin. I know you hate Slytherin but please give it a chance for me?_

_I think I met your successors. Fred and George Weasley, third year Gryffindor twins, are about as Marauder as anyone can get. They're the beaters on the Gryffindor team and spend much more time planning jokes than doing homework. I want to invite them to the Manor this summer for a visit. They'll fit in perfectly._

_The reason I wrote Siri, is that I need your help. Hagrid has gotten himself into some trouble, and he can't see how unbelievably stupid what he did is. He managed to get his hands on a dragon egg somehow and hatched it in his cottage. He's smitten. We need to get Norbert, the dragon, away from Hogwarts before it burns Hagrid and his cottage to the ground. I've put up some basic fire protections as discreetly as I could, but what about when it gets bigger than the cottage?_

_If there's anything you can do – and I know there is – please let me know. I promised Hagrid I wouldn't tell Dumbledore, and I won't unless it gets too dangerous. I don't want him to go back to Azkaban._

_Love,_

_Harry_

"Bloody fucking hell," Sirius cursed to his empty office.

The Marauders had gotten into plenty of trouble at Hogwarts, and even a few sticky spots after they graduated, but nothing like this. Hagrid's position was precarious enough as it was without risking getting dragged off to Azkaban for illegal dragon breeding. The half-giant was lucky he even had a job. If he were a bad sort then Sirius would just take a team to Hogwarts and arrest him, but Hagrid was perhaps the gentlest soul the Marauders knew and had helped them out of jams on plenty of occasions.

It was strange how where the Potter children were concerned all bets were off amongst the Marauders. The three remaining Marauders had no secrets from each other, unless it was the secret of the one of the kids. Sirius would never tell James, Lily, or Remus about the time he caught Harry flying in a thunderstorm.

Brie and Remus had their secrets too, as Remus was her godfather. Sirius suspected that Frank, Alex's godfather, had a special bond with that boy too. Ian was still young, but Sirius expected that Kingsley would be just as close to the boy as Sirius, Remus, and Frank were with their godchildren. Each Potter child had a different godparent... just in case.

There was no question as to whether Sirius would help Harry. Anything that Harry asked of him, Sirius would at least attempt, even if it meant considering that not all Slytherins were inherently evil. After all, if Harry was a Slytherin, then there was no way Sirius could continue as he had since his first year at Hogwarts. Harry came first.

That was why Sirius found himself in the office of his best friend and boss, lying through his teeth, "I'm going to disappear for a few days James. I may have a lead."

"Oh?" James instantly perked up.

Though Sirius had other responsibilities, his main task was to head the hunt for Peter, along with a few other fugitives. It had been self-appointed at first, and made official when no one could dissuade him from his course.

"I have no idea how valid this is, but I'm checking it out anyway," Sirius said mysteriously.

"How long do you think you'll be?" James instantly began flipping through parchment, no doubt already changing the duty roster in his head. The Head Auror had too much paperwork in the opinion of both men, much of which frequently 'spontaneously combusted'. James almost never left the office for field work, but it made Lily much happier.

"No more than a week, though I expect only three days or so," Sirius replied. If he was lucky it would all work out much more quickly.

"Okay," James nodded at his friend, "if you find the bastard don't let him get talking. He knows how to push your buttons."

"Moi?" Sirius said in mock offense. "Don't worry Prongs. I won't make the same mistake twice."

James smiled fondly, "I know Padfoot. Constant Vigilance."

"Constant Vigilance," Sirius saluted with a cocky grin. The catchphrase of Mad-Eye Moody had become the unofficial Auror motto, especially since James had become Head Auror. He had trained under Moody in the Auror mentor program. He even had an engraved plaque with the saying on the wall of his office.

His first stop was Gringotts after he penned a quick reply to Harry. Sirius needed to refill his money bag and track down one of the bank's employees. Strangely it was Harry's letter that had sparked the memory. He knew the Weasley twins had an older brother who worked with dragons, but he didn't know where. The oldest of the Weasley siblings though, had trained briefly with Sirius as part of his training for Gringotts as a curse breaker. Bill would be able to tell Sirius where his brother was. If he asked Molly and Arthur it would get back to James, or worse... Lily.

"I need to see the Head Goblin please," Sirius flashed his Auror Identification just to put a fire under the goblin at the desk. While the goblins did not fall directly under the Ministry law the same way that wizards did they didn't mess with Aurors. They had an understanding with the department.

Yet another goblin ushered Sirius into a posh office and directed him to comfortable chair. He was offered a pipe and a drink, but declined both. He had to work as quickly as possible.

"What can I do for you Auror Black?" the goblin behind the desk asked him.

"You remembered!" Sirius grinned. The Head Goblin of the London branch of Gringotts had arranged for the group of curse breaker trainees to work with the Aurors. "I need to track down Bill Weasley Uric. He's not in any trouble. I actually need his help with something."

"Will it interfere with his work? He is on a delicate project at the moment," Uric gave Sirius a curious look. It was to be expected. The curse breakers occasionally fractured a law or two in their work and visits from Aurors could prove harmful to both the workers and the bank's profit margins.

"Not at all," Sirius assured the goblin. "I only have a few questions on a personal matter that I don't wish to entrust to an owl. My visit will be in a strictly unofficial capacity."

Uric smiled, a strange look on a goblin, "He arrived in Egypt a little less than a year ago. The expedition there should last a few years and be quite profitable. My assistant will provide you with apparition coordinates."

"Thank you," Sirius bowed slightly and saw his bow returned before he left the office and took a slip of parchment from the goblin at the desk just outside.

Two hours and five jumps later, with the requisite waiting time between apparitions, Sirius found himself in the sweltering heat of the Egyptian desert. Whatever it was the curse breakers were doing, their site would be heavily warded to protect innocent muggles that might wander in.

Sirius removed his jacket and draped it over one shoulder. He had to be close to the site, as his arrival spot was given to him by the goblins, so all he had to do was look for one of those telltale signs that wizards were up to something. The Auror felt perspiration almost the instant he stepped into the sun from the shaded area he arrived at. He almost swore he could see the heat rising from the desert sands in waves.

Gringotts usually trained their curse breakers and other wizard and witch employees on their own. A few years ago some goblin who wanted to get ahead came with the idea to share training with the Aurors. Not only was it good for wizard-goblin relations and strengthening ties between the Aurors and the bank, but it also made it easier to train the bank's employees. There was something about the way humans learned that goblins just didn't understand, so having them train with other humans was the only way that worked. Using the Aurors for some of the training freed up the employees that would normally be pulled from their assignments to act as trainers.

Bill had been in the first class of curse breakers to train with the Auror candidates and that training had included field practice in curse detection. Sirius had drawn the Weasley heir as his partner for that field work and the two of them had gotten on well. There was something about the whole Weasley family that Sirius liked, at least in those members that he'd met.

Sirius brushed his hair back from his face and tied it into a short ponytail. He normally let it hang loose but the sticky heat was making it cling to his skin and it was getting in the way. Briefly Sirius thought of his godson and wondered how Harry would react to this climate. The way that Harry never felt too hot, or too cold had to be due to his elemental abilities. There had been that one winter where Neville had dared Harry to wear only summer attire, and the boy had never showed any discomfort, and the year when Harry was little and it was all Lily and James could do to get clothes on the kid at all.

Walking casually and looking around like a tourist, Sirius watched for anything unusual. There were dozens of ways to protect an area from muggles, depending on its size, complexity, and the level of protection desired. There was protection like the wards on Hogwarts, which showed the castle as a dangerous ruin, and there were the wards used on temporary sites, like wherever the Quidditch World Cup was held.

Sirius saw a muggle stop short, a confused expression on his face, turn and walk back in the direction he had come from. That short man dressed in local garb was not the only one. With a smile Sirius headed towards that spot. He felt the tingle like tiny needle pricks all over his skin as he passed through the ward. It took years to develop the sensitivity needed to detect wards like that, and still not every wizard and witch could manage it.

There were a few wizards wearing robes that looked a bit like the clothes he saw at a booth not far from where he apparated in. They were all grouped around a door that had been uncovered in a dune, discussing something and gesturing down at the door.

"Afternoon!" Sirius greeted them brightly. He saw that Bill was not among them, but no doubt they knew where he was.

A tall Arab wizard gave Sirius a quick appraising glance, "This is not a tourist site."

"I know," Sirius continued to smile as he got closer. "I'm looking for Bill Weasley. Uric at the London Gringotts told me he was here."

That generated some raised eyebrows. The goblins rarely gave information out, especially before an expedition was concluded.

"Weasley!" A witch with an American accent yelled down to wherever the door led. "You've got a visitor!"

The group introduced themselves curtly to Sirius, who replied in kind. His name sparked knowing looks, and he felt hesitancy from the Gringotts wizards and witch. He was a well-known figure not only in Great Britain, and as an Auror he was probably not very welcome there.

"Sirius!" Bill Weasley grinned brightly and dusted his robes off as he stepped out of the door. His red hair had grown down to fall past his shoulders and was tied back. His freckles were numerous with so much exposure to the bright desert sun and his nose was red with sunburn. He said a few words to one of the wizards and led Sirius away from the door. "What brings you down here?"

"It's a long story," Sirius chuckled. He wondered what Harry would have done if he didn't have an outside source to turn to. "I need a bit of help. How do I get in touch with your brother?"

"Got a dragon problem?" Bill lifted the flap of a tent and gestured for Sirius to step inside.

In the tent Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. There were cooling charms on it, thank Merlin, "It's not my problem, but yes."

"He's at the Romanian preserve," Bill told the Auror as he went to a cupboard and got out two glasses. He poured and handed Sirius a glass of amber liquid, "the local liquor. It's pretty good."

Sirius took a sip. The flavor was strong, and the alcohol content had to be high, "Not bad."

As they finished the drinks Sirius related Harry's tale and Bill was laughing by the time he was done, "There are times when I'm glad to be done with Hogwarts. You couldn't get me anywhere near that place with a dragon in Hagrid's hut. The one time I visited Charlie is the last."

"Well, if I can't get Charlie to help out Hagrid will almost certainly get shipped to Azkaban for a few months for illegal dragon breeding. He's already been in those cells once, and that's more than enough for most anyone," Sirius shuddered and downed the second glass Bill had poured for him.

Bill had the good graces not to comment. Instead, he turned his back and got out some parchment and a quill, "I can send Charlie a quick note. He could be on leave or something and I wouldn't want you to get there and have to turn back."

Sirius nodded. There was only so much apparating someone could do in one day without getting sick. Bill tied the note to an owl and it flew off. Sirius watched it go and smiled, "I guess all I can do is wait now."

They sat on the sofa in what Sirius assumed was Bill's living quarters and caught up. The last time Sirius had seen Bill was when his training with the Aurors had ended and Gringotts was about to ship him off to South America for the rest of his on-the-job training. That was four years ago, and plenty had happened with both of them since.

"There's something I've wanted to do for years," Bill smiled at Sirius, his dark blue eyes holding contact Sirius's lighter blue. "Do you mind?"

It had been a few months, but Sirius knew a pick-up line when he heard one. He looked over the other wizard, who was only a little less than ten years younger than he was. Molly would probably have a fit the next time she saw her oldest child. With the long hair and the fang earring Bill looked roguish.

"I don't mind at all."

The younger wizard leaned in and pressed his lips against Sirius's. Sirius calmly set his glass where he remembered the coffee table sat and reached around to undo the tie that held back the long red hair.

Bill's owl returned in what seemed like no time at all, with a message that Charlie would be expecting Sirius. Sirius kissed the redhead one more time and licked his lips. He had not expected this trip to be so enjoyable and made a mental note to thank Hagrid sometime. Sirius jotted off a quick letter to Harry and sent it to Hogwarts with Bill's owl.

"See you around," Bill grinned at Sirius as he arranged his robes properly. They were much more complicated than the simple style worn in England.

Charlie was waiting in Romania with three other wizards and each of them held a broom, "We can apparate as far as Hogsmeade and fly to Hogwarts from there. The return trip will have to be all by air, so we better get there not too long after Hogwarts curfew."

Sirius nodded. Romania was three hours ahead of Scotland, so if they left then they would get to Hogsmeade in time for a late dinner, "We'll go to the Hog's Head, less questions asked there, and dinner's on me."

"No arguments here," one of Charlie's friends said with a smile. "I make it a point never to turn down free food. Name's Jeffrey."

Sirius shook his hand and introduced himself, then met their other companions. The five of them apparated one at a time. They would have to make the journey in six legs, with a ten minute wait at each stop to keep themselves from getting too disoriented.

It seemed almost too easy to get Norbert, Hagrid's name for the recently hatched Norwegian Ridgeback, settled in a harness suspended from two brooms. Charlie and his friends took off from the highest tower at Hogwarts and left Sirius behind with Harry and his friend, a girl in Gryffindor robes.

Sirius smirked, "So Harry, who's your friend?"

"Siri, this is Hermione Granger, Hermione, my godfather Sirius Black," Harry glowered at Sirius. "You can just call him dumbass."

Sirius snickered at the shocked look on the girl's face. She quite clearly did not follow the silent exchanges between godfather and godson.

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Black," Hermione gave him a short curtsy.

It was Sirius's turn to glower and Harry's to snicker. Sirius hated being called 'Mr. Black'. Each new batch of Aurors, and luckily they were few and far between, learned that fairly quickly if they didn't want to get hexed whenever they spoke to him.

Sirius didn't know how the mood shifted so quickly, but before he knew it the girl was giving Harry a sympathetic look and Harry was shifting uncomfortably.

"We're okay Padfoot, aren't we?" the uncertainty in Harry's voice tugged at Sirius's heartstrings. "I mean, with my sorting and all."

Sirius pulled Harry towards him and hugged him tightly. Even after years of reassurance Harry still had a tendency to be uncertain in his relationships, "It would take far more than a talking hat to get me to stop loving you Pup." All Harry's muscles seemed to relax at once and he hugged Sirius back. "I'll see you in June and we'll talk all about it."

Harry nodded, and then tensed again, "Someone's coming. Quick Siri!"

His Auror reflexes kicked in to catch the silvery material tossed in his direction and he automatically hid under the invisibility cloak. Almost immediately after he disappeared the door opened and Filch stepped outside.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Filch absentmindedly pet his cat and smirked at the two first years, "You two are a bit young for romantic meetings after curfew. Follow me."

It was all Sirius could do to keep himself from laughing as Harry and his friend followed the caretaker. The girl had guilt written all over her face, but Harry's perfect poker face gave nothing away. Sirius flew his broom down to the owlery and bundled up the cloak, wrapping it in the brown parcel paper available there. He called for Hedwig and gave her the package for Harry. Sirius didn't want to deprive his godson of such a valuable tool.

To keep himself from fully lying to his best friend Sirius made the rounds of several pubs, looking for news of dark activity. There was nothing that had the feel of Peter, but Sirius did get a few tidbits to be followed up on. He walked into James's office a few days after he saw Harry and slumped down in the chair across from James.

"Dead end," Sirius pronounced, "but I got a few interesting things anyway." Sirius tossed a roll of parchment onto the desk with the leads he had discovered from his sources.

James nodded and then held up a piece of parchment, "Minerva wrote." Sirius just raised his eyebrows. "Harry got caught breaking curfew, with a girl."

Sirius snickered, "He's a bit young for that. Have you told Lily?"

James sighed and shook his head, "Not yet. I was waiting for you, so she will have more than one target, dinner at the Manor tonight?"

"I wouldn't miss it," Sirius grinned across the desk. Lily would no doubt blame them for corrupting Harry with tales of their Marauder days. Neither of Harry's parents needed to know exactly why Harry had broken curfew. Sirius leaned back, "So, anything new around here?"

"Your cousin just finished the first year of training," James gave Sirius a look he knew all too well. Sirius was not going to like whatever James had to say next, "Seeing as she's family I can trust you not to seduce this one, so guess who you get to train next?"

Sirius groaned and let his head fall to the desk with an audible 'thunk'. His cousin's daughter was a walking disaster, terror on two legs.

"You just love making me miserable don't you Prongs?"

"Just one of the many benefits of the job Padfoot."

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	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

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At that moment Harry would happily consign Draco Malfoy to the deepest, darkest, fieriest pit of hell that existed. Luckily, the Slytherins were not nearly as mad at Harry as the Gryffindors were at Hermione and Neville. Harry had no idea how Malfoy found out what they were doing, or how Neville found out that Malfoy knew, but they had all been caught out of bed after curfew, lost fifty points a piece, and received detention.

Harry's small bit of satisfaction came from knowing that the majority of Slytherin was pissed off at Malfoy for turning Harry in, and to McGonagall no less. There were some that even called him a traitor to his face. These of course were older students from old families that had no need for connections with the Malfoys to make their way once they graduated.

The anger of the two houses settled down after a few weeks, much to Harry's relief. He didn't think Neville could take much more. His friend was already under too much stress regarding the approaching exams, and Hermione's nagging him to study in every free moment they had wasn't helping at all.

Slytherin recovered in points after a spectacular quidditch win, and Hermione was earning points in classes left and right. Both houses were in the running for the cup again though it would take quite a lot of work to win.

It was quite some detention too. Harry did love Hagrid, but he would never understand the man's fascination with creatures that could easily devour him whole. It came in useful when trekking though the Forbidden Forest to find the spirit of Voldemort feasting on unicorn blood, or would have if Hagrid hadn't split them up and left Harry with Malfoy. His fellow Slytherin had turned tail and run at the first sign of danger and Harry had been too busy clutching his forehead in pain to follow.

Luckily for Harry the centaurs had turned up or he might have been left to face Voldemort's spirit all alone. Harry mentally thanked Remus profusely for teaching them about the polite way to deal with nonhumans. Though one of the centaurs had still been displeased to see Harry astride Firenze's back they had all expressed their appreciation for his formally worded thanks for their help and deep apology for the break in centaur custom.

He was in over his head and he knew it. It was Voldemort that wanted the stone, and Harry knew that his Head of House was a former Death Eater. He had read the old _Daily Prophet_ accounts of the trials as part of his history lessons with Remus.

He knew that Dumbledore had spoken for Snape and the man had been released into Dumbledore's custody, but Harry knew that the Headmaster had made mistakes in the past, such as placing him with the Dursleys. He would never trust someone solely on Dumbledore's word. If Harry's parents had actually died, how long would he have been stuck with the Dursleys?

He had no idea who to turn to. His mother was nearing the end of her pregnancy, which meant both his parents were too preoccupied. He would not add to their worry. Remus had all his siblings to look after, and was probably just as worried about Harry's mother as his father was since Remus was the one at Potter Manor all day and he was the alpha wolf.

Sirius had already put his neck out on the line for Harry once that year. There was only so much he could get away with, and only so much Harry would ask of him. Besides, Harry had this feeling that any adult he would talk to would just tell him that the stone was safe because Dumbledore was watching over it and to stay out of it, mind his own business.

Harry could have argued that anything concerning Voldemort was his business.

He could also mention that Dumbledore wasn't perfect.

Neither argument would get him anywhere he knew. The majority of adults wouldn't understand the responsibility he felt where Voldemort was concerned. He wasn't even sure if his parents, Sirius, and Remus would really understand.

All those uncomfortable thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. Harry rooted through his trunk, looking for a few objects he knew were buried at the bottom. Proper manners had been instilled in all the Potter children early on in life, along with an allowance to completely ignore those manners when it was just family, which it usually was. Sirius, Remus, Neville, Frank, Alice, and Poppy counted as 'just family'.

"Aha!" Harry pulled out a medium sized box and lifted the lid to look inside.

Technically, Hogwarts students were not allowed any weapons apart from their wands, but it was not expressly stated. That loophole was all Harry needed to bring a few special objects. This one was a dagger with the Potter crest on the hilt. It was a practical weapon though, with a sharp blade and plain sheath, not at all ceremonial or decorative.

Neville had one just like it, and Harry normally carried one with the Longbottom crest. When Sirius and Frank had taught them how to use the knives in basic defense and attack, starting when they were eight, they had exchanged blades in a pledge of friendship, declaring that they were sworn brothers. Those were the knives they used in Potions and Herbology and carried everywhere they went.

Harry put the dagger and sheath back in its box and took out an owl order form. It had taken a bit of research, but he had found some information on what centaurs prized. Unfortunately they were simple in their tastes and prized knowledge above all else, but they also had a sweet tooth that was only infrequently satisfied. Harry put in a large order for a variety of sweets and sent it off to Honeydukes. It would get back to him within a day or two and he could send it the centaur clan through Hagrid.

"What's that?" Blaise asked quietly at breakfast the next morning.

Blaise, Tracey, and Maya were officially Harry's only real friends in Slytherin. The quidditch team was on polite terms with him, along with a good number of older students, but these three were the only ones who qualified as friends. And even then, there was an odd separation between them and Harry, a formality that didn't exist in any of his other friendships. He spent more time with the Slytherins, but felt closer to Hermione and the Weasley twins in some strange way.

"It's for the centaurs," Harry answered Blaise. "I thanked them for saving me, but thought I should express my gratitude in another way too."

Blaise nodded, understanding perfectly. That was very Slytherin, very proper. If someone saved your life it put you in their debt. It was very powerful magic which could cause enormous problems if ignored.

"So you'll be visiting Hagrid later?" Tracey asked him.

"Yes," Harry took a bit of his breakfast and thought while he chewed. He would need to write a note to go along with the gifts. He could trust Hagrid to deliver, but not necessarily to express the right sentiment. "I'll head down after classes today."

The last class of the day was Potions with the Gryffindors, and Hermione and Neville offered to visit Hagrid with Harry. The Slytherins, never eager to spend time with Gryffindors, begged off joining them by claiming they had studying to do. Harry just sighed, wondering if his two separate groups of friends would ever treat each other with something more than vague distrust.

Hagrid agreed to deliver Harry's gifts and offered them tea and cakes. Having already been subjected to Hagrid's idea of cooking all three refused the cakes and said they didn't want to spoil their dinner.

"I got word from Charlie," Hagrid sniffed. "Norbert's safe in Romania."

Harry smiled, but it faded quickly as a thought popped into his head.

"Harry?" Neville knew Harry well, could read his expressions when almost no one else could.

"Hagrid, how did you get the dragon egg?" Harry asked as casually as he could. He didn't want to alarm anyone.

What unfolded from there was enough to alarm the slowest among them, once he managed to put the pieces together anyway. When they discovered Professor Dumbledore was gone Harry only became more anxious.

It didn't help that Hermione told Professor McGonagall they knew about the Sorcerer's Stone. The Deputy Headmistress had given them a stern lecture which made Harry think back to stories his father and Sirius told. They had not exaggerated.

"The stone is perfectly safe," McGonagall ended her lecture sternly. "If I catch any of you anywhere near the third floor corridor I'll take one hundred points each, yes Miss Granger from my own house if need be."

Harry watched her stalk away and waited until he was sure she was out of range, "I'm going after the stone tonight."

"And we're going with you," Neville added equally softly, his eyes determined.

Harry wanted to argue, but one look at his friend told him it was useless, "Fine. Meet me here tonight after curfew. Borrow the map from the twins to avoid getting caught. I'll use my cloak."

The Gryffindors nodded and headed towards their tower. Harry made his way to Slytherin. He wouldn't tell his friends there what was going on. The last thing he wanted to bring even more people into danger with him, and to risk exposure to more people.

There was a chance he'd get stuck having to use his elements to save the stone and the fewer people that knew about that the safer Harry was. Wizards that could control the elements were generally not trusted, as there were no really effective ways to defend against elemental magic.

Time went by at a crawl that night. As was his custom, Harry got into bed with one of his books, parchment, and his quill shortly before his roommates got ready for sleep. When he was sure they were all asleep he got out of bed and pulled his invisibility cloak out of his trunk.

"I wonder why you didn't just use that when you were getting rid of the oaf's dragon," a voice drawled, a voice that always irritated Harry.

Harry spun and whipped out his wand, only to see a wand pointed at him.

"Damn it Malfoy," Harry said in a harsh whisper, "why can't you just keep your nose out of my business?"

"You've been anxious all night," Malfoy looked smug. "What is it this time, more dragon smuggling or something more mundane like sneaking in muggle drugs?"

"You obnoxious little twit," Harry hissed. "I'll have you know that I never break the rules without a damned good reason. Now get out of my way unless you want me to make you."

Malfoy just raised his eyebrows, "Nah. I think I'll just go with you."

"What?" Harry was shocked. This was not at all what he expected from Malfoy. "No way."

"Either take me with you, or I go straight to Severus," Malfoy smirked, knowing he had the upper hand.

Harry growled. He did not like this situation one bit, and there was no way he could risk Snape finding out what he was doing, "Fine. There's room for both of us under here. If you get us caught I'll hex you so hard your own mother won't recognize you."

Malfoy's smirk never faltered for an instant. Instead he put his wand away and stood a bit closer to Harry. Cursing under his breath in a way that would make Sirius proud but would make his mother 'scourgify' his mouth, Harry wrapped them both in his cloak.

They managed to get out of Slytherin without alerting any other students, but it had been a close call. Both of them had stopped short upon entering the common room and seeing a couple entwined on the couch in front of the fireplace. They were clearly not wearing anything under the blanket that covered just enough of them but still left no doubt as to what was going on.

After they both recovered they slipped out of the common room.

"Are you blushing Potter?" Malfoy teased.

Harry just cursed the blond. It was too dark to see the color of their hair, let alone if either of them was blushing. Malfoy was just being his usual annoying self.

"That's quite a vocabulary Potter," Malfoy sounded cheerful and it grated on Harry's nerves.

"Stuff it," Harry responded, adding a few colorful phrases. "My godfather spent a year in Azkaban. His mouth could make a demon blush."

"I've always wanted to meet my cousin," Malfoy said with what sounded like honesty, but Harry couldn't be sure. He gave his fellow Slytherin an odd look and just kept walking.

In the third floor corridor there were three figures waiting, one with bright red hair. Harry whipped off the cloak, "What in the name of all that's holy is _he_ doing here?"

"Me?" Weasley replied with venom. "What's Malfoy doing here?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, "I owe you no explanations." But he turned to Neville, "He caught me sneaking out and insisted on joining in on the fun."

"Same thing here," Neville said dryly.

"So what are we doing?" Malfoy asked calmly, leaning against a wall and examining his fingernails.

"Dumbledore has the Sorcerer's Stone hidden here and someone..."

"...Snape," Hermione interrupted Harry.

Harry glared and saw Malfoy tense, "_someone_, we don't have any proof who, is trying to steal it. Dumbledore got called to London so we think it's tonight and no one we trust will listen to us."

"So you think a bunch of first years can protect the stone when the whole teaching staff can't?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

Harry and Neville exchanged a quick look, "The staff thinks their protections will hold, but if it's one of them, then they can past whatever the staff has done."

"So what are we waiting for?" Weasley asked impatiently.

Malfoy gave him a withering look, "So eager to rush into danger? What a good little Gryffindor you are."

"Fluffy is first," Harry pulled out the wooden flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. "Who wants to play?"

Hermione held out her hand, "I've had lessons for a few years."

She began a simple tune and Harry opened the door. Fluffy was already sleeping, "Whoever it is has already been through."

"The greasy git is after it," Weasley muttered. "Figures."

"Watch it Weasel," Malfoy snapped. "That's my godfather you're talking about."

"Both of you shut it," Harry hissed. "I don't care if you hex each other to hell and back tomorrow but if you can't help then keep your mouths shut or so help me I'll shut them for you."

Neville got them past the devil's snare easily, supplying the answer much more quickly than Hermione, who was panicking. Weasley and Malfoy were forced to work together, and with Harry, to get the key that Flitwick had charmed. They were both excellent fliers, and Harry had no doubt that Malfoy would make it onto the team the next year.

Between Weasley and Hermione they made it across the giant chess board with almost no casualties. Harry doubted he would ever tell him, but he was impressed that Weasley sacrificed himself so the rest of them could go on.

Hermione stayed behind to look after Weasley and Neville was sent back to tell a professor, any professor, what they were up to. Harry was having second thoughts after seeing Weasley hit over the head by a giant chess piece. He could probably get through all this on his own but he couldn't necessarily protect whoever was with him.

It was just Harry and Malfoy at that point. They went through the next door and were hit with a foul stench. A large troll, much larger than the one Harry encountered on Halloween, was face down on the floor.

"Ew," Malfoy held his nose, "trolls are just gross."

"At least I don't have to fight this one," Harry agreed with Malfoy.

They hesitated before the next door, Malfoy looking at him intensely, "There's more going on than you told me Potter."

"It's Voldemort," Harry felt a bit of satisfaction at the wince. "Whoever is trying to get the stone wants it for him, not themselves."

"And you think Severus...?"

"I don't know," Harry replied with a little frustration. "Hermione thinks it's Snape because of that first quidditch game. We saw him muttering when my broom was being jinxed, but he could have been trying to counter the jinx."

Malfoy nodded, "And what makes you think I don't want You-Know-Who to come back?"

That gave Harry pause. He knew that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater before Voldemort's downfall. In all likelihood his only son would be more than happy to help Voldemort return to power. There was only one way Harry could think of to reason with his fellow Slytherin.

"Is there anything you want now that you can't get?" Harry asked carefully.

"Only one thing," Malfoy answered quietly.

"Could Voldemort get it for you?"

Malfoy snorted, "Not bloody likely."

"Do you want your father to go to Azkaban?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you don't want Voldemort back," Harry reasoned. Without waiting for Malfoy's reaction he walked through the next door, his only sign that Malfoy followed him being the delay before the door closed again.

"I can tell you right off that these three are deadly," Malfoy pointed out three of the bottled potions.

Harry raised his eyebrows, "How do you know?"

"Severus is my godfather," Malfoy answered as though addressing a three year old. "What has your godfather taught you?"

Harry just nodded, not answering. They both reread the riddle and each went for a different bottle. Harry held the small crystal bottle to go forward, "Only enough for one."

"Go ahead," Malfoy said. "I leave all heroics to those fools with Gryffindor in their blood."

Harry rolled his eyes but drank the potion. It felt like ice flowing through his veins. He stepped through the fire and took a deep breath. Dumbledore's protection was the only one left.

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	10. Chapter 10

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**Chapter Ten**

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Harry woke to the killer of all headaches. As he was trying to orient himself images flashed through his mind from the previous night; Weasley was hit over the head and collapsing, Quirrell and the stone, the stench of burning flesh.

"The stone!" Harry sat up quickly and flung his blanket away to discover he was wearing pajamas. That was enough to make him pause. He hadn't ever worn pajamas in his memory.

"The stone is safe," a deep voice, rich with amusement, said from next to his bed. Dumbledore sat there with a twinkle in his eyes. "You held out long enough for me to come to your aid. Your friends are all fine. Mr. Weasley is fully recovered. It was close Harry, but you held in there. I thought I was too late."

"To save the stone?" Harry questioned.

"No my dear boy," Dumbledore smiled fondly, "to save you. We nearly lost you last night."

"And Professor Quirrell?" Harry almost dreaded the response he was sure to get.

"I am afraid he did not survive," Professor Dumbledore looked grave. "I am very proud of you Harry. Many grown wizards would not have stood up to the challenges you faced last night."

Something was still not quite right, and Harry's mind was foggy, presumably with the lingering effects of a sleeping potion, "...the stone."

"You are persistent," Dumbledore chuckled. "It has been destroyed."

"But the Flamels," Harry protested.

"You and your friends did go about this quite properly, didn't you?" Dumbledore chuckled again. "Nicholas and Perenelle have enough elixir stored away to put their affairs in order. To them it will be like going to sleep after a very long day."

"You mean...," Harry suddenly felt incredibly guilty.

"To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Harry nodded, and then realized what was wrong. The hospital wing was too quiet. Poppy should have been fussing over him, "Where's Poppy?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but did not say anything about how casually Harry referred to the hospital matron, "She was called away last night. Congratulations Harry. You have a new little brother... and a sister."

"Mum?" Harry felt his stomach twist, remembering how pale she had been after Ian was born, how close it had been. He didn't even think of the implication of twins.

"It was a difficult night Harry," Dumbledore's twinkle was gone, "I will not lie about that, but your mother will be fine."

Nothing else mattered then. Dark lords and possessed teachers be damned. Harry just wanted to get home and make sure that his family was safe and sound. He at least had an explanation for why none of his family was with him. He wondered if they even knew what had happened the night before.

It turned out that Dumbledore and Snape were overseeing Harry's wellbeing, as Poppy was still at Potter Manor. The Headmaster had left Harry with quite a bit to think over, and he didn't see anyone else until Snape showed up after the elves had made sure Harry ate his dinner that night.

"Drink," Snape handed Harry a vial.

Harry only hesitated for the briefest moment before swallowing the foul tasting concoction. They both sat in silence for several minutes.

"Why did you not come to me?" Snape finally asked, his dark eyes showing just a hint of curiosity, the rest of face not betraying the slightest emotion.

"Never trust anyone until they prove themselves worthy of that trust," Harry quoted Alastor Moody softly, "and even then watch your back. The Gryffindors were all convinced it was you. I had my doubts, but it's better to be safe than dead."

Snape raised his eyebrows, "Indeed."

"Thank you sir, for the counter you spoke during the game," Harry looked his Head of House in the eye.

Snape smirked, that smirk that could almost be a smile... almost, "You can tell your father that my life debt to him is fulfilled."

Harry just nodded, tempted to laugh but knowing it wasn't appropriate, "He keeps saying that there isn't one, since it was Siri's fault you almost died in the first place."

The smirk was quickly displaced by a frown, "Then you know?"

Harry shook his head, "Only the bare minimum of the story. I don't know any of the details."

Snape nodded and handed over another vial, "Drink this one before you sleep. Madam Pomfrey will return by the morning and ascertain whether you are fit to take your exams."

"Thank you," Harry said as his professor stood.

Just before the man left the ward Harry heard the soft, "You're welcome Harry."

Still feeling drained, Harry drank the potion and surrendered to sleep.

"Your godfather was beside himself," Poppy's scolding woke Harry. "If your mother hadn't gone into labor on her own last night news of your exploits would surely have sent her there." Harry winced. "You should feel guilty. It's lucky for you that Remus took Albus's call."

"I'm sorry," Harry could only think of his mother just then. "How is Mum?"

Poppy sighed and brushed Harry's fringe back gently, "She'll have no more children, but she'll survive this one. You be careful when you go home. Nothing can upset her for at least a week, so do not mention what you've been up to."

Harry nodded, "Are the babies okay?"

"Here you go," Poppy smiled and produced a cigar from her robes, "just don't smoke it until you're of age. It's a boy and a girl, Rowan Linnea and Ryan Christoph."

Harry grinned, "How many hexes did she get in this time? Are the others okay?"

Poppy laughed and filled Harry in on the drama at Potter Manor the previous night. Every time Lily Potter had gone into labor she had thoroughly hexed James for getting her in that condition to begin with until they managed to get her wand away from her. He may have been Head Auror, but he could never defend himself against his wife.

The leaving feast was everything Harry had been told it was. The Slytherin table was particularly rowdy, as they had won the house cup that year. Malfoy was strange and his behavior didn't change in-House. He completely ignored Harry, but it was certainly a step up from the fighting all year. Despite Harry's absence from the final quidditch game Slytherin had just barely managed to win. That combined with the points Dumbledore awarded for saving the stone put Slytherin in first place with Gryffindor a close second.

Harry was eager to get back home, despite the fondness he had developed for Hogwarts. It would be easy enough to see most of his friends over the summer, as Hermione was the only one not connected to the Floo Network. They could write though, and maybe meet in London to get their supplies for the next year, or somewhere else in the muggle world.

At home, he had a full week's reprieve before Sirius knocked on his bedroom door one night after his brothers and sisters had all gone to sleep, "Come down to your father's study Pup. It's time we had a word with you."

Harry swallowed and made his way down the stairs reluctantly. His mother had been fed at least ten potions a day for the past week until she had been pronounced fully recovered that morning by Poppy. No one in the Manor had slept well that week though.

All silencing charms had been negated because of the new additions to the Potter family. No sooner did they manage to get one of the twins to quiet down then the other started wailing. Harry sometimes wondered if they did it on purpose, but knew they weren't quite old enough for that. They _were_ magical twins though.

The instant he entered the study his mother was up and hugging him tightly, "I can't believe you Harry! You faced _him_ again, and on your own! What were you _thinking_?"

"At the time, only that Voldemort was going to come back," Harry said with his head down. He had thought about that night quite a bit. "So of course I had to go and almost assure that he could."

"How did you do that Harry?" Remus asked softly, in his best teacher voice. It gave no indication as to what the right answer would be.

Harry sighed, "Professor Dumbledore's protection assured that only someone who wanted the stone, but not to use it could get it. If I hadn't been there, Quirrell and Voldemort couldn't have even gotten close to the stone. I almost ruined all the work the professors put into those protections. If I hadn't been there the stone would be safe and Quirrell might... Quirrell might still be alive."

"Albus wasn't clear on what happened to him," Lily Potter said, and Harry was sure she hadn't intended for him to hear.

He smiled at his mother but the smile did not reach his eyes, "I couldn't have done it without you Mum." Four pairs of eyes widened just enough for Harry to see the surprise. "Dumbledore said that it was your love that saved me, both on that Halloween and with Quirrell."

The adults all exchanged looks and Harry's father got up and gave him a hug, "Head on up to bed Harry. I think you've punished yourself more than we would have."

Both his parents and his uncles kissed his forehead before he started up the stairs, somewhat relaxed for the first time since that night without the aid of a potion.

"Should we tell him?" Sirius asked the others.

Lily shook her head, "Not yet. He's too young to know his magic acted on its own to kill a threat to him. I will tell Albus though, as soon as I can. He needs to know what really happened to Voldemort."

"I don't go back to the Ministry for another week," James added. "You and I can go to Hogwarts in the morning. We'll bring the twins to Poppy for a checkup and for Minerva to meet them."

"In that case I'll stay here," Remus grinned. "I could use some peace and quiet."

"With those four in the house?" Sirius chuckled. "Peace and quiet is the last thing you'll get."

Remus raised an eyebrow at his friend, "If you were here maybe. _I_ have some authority over them."

James laughed at Sirius's indignant expression. He was not at all pleased that Harry had gotten into such trouble at Hogwarts, and not the kind of trouble that the Marauders had been notorious for. Dumbledore's job was to protect his students, not let them nearly die in trying to protect his friends' magical artifacts from dark lords, neither of which belonged in the castle. He was going to have words with that man again.

Harry did not know that his parents had gone to argue with Dumbledore again on his behalf. He only was relieved to know that it was summer holiday. Under Remus's direction he started on his homework, but wasn't required to do much. After all, working continuously all the summer assignments could be completed in a few days. It wouldn't surprise Harry one bit if Weasley left it all to the last minute.

So there was time to have his Slytherin friends over and go flying, or to go to Longbottom Hall and practice dueling with Neville, or to spend time with Brie, Alex and Ian. The Weasley twins wanted to visit, but their schedule never seemed to mesh well with Harry's. Harry spent as much time out of the Manor as possible, as the new twins cried almost all the time they spent awake. It drove his mother nuts, and Harry did not want to be underfoot.

It was a bright, hot afternoon when Harry was lying on the rock in the lake next to his godfather, soaking in the sun. Remus was teaching Brie defensive spells while Alex and Ian were working on reading and writing exercises. Harry loved moments like this with his godfather, when neither of them had to say a word and they just sat in companionable silence. Most people would never even believe Sirius was capable of it. Harry's mind kept going back to the one thing he had not resolved in his mind about that night before his exams.

"Siri?"

"Yeah Pup?"

"How old were you when you first had sex?" Harry asked curiously.

Sirius coughed and sat up straight. The look he gave Harry was priceless, "Harry you are far too young..."

Harry started laughing. He just couldn't help it, "I know that! It's just... there was this couple in Slytherin that night... and we saw them while we sneaking out."

"We?" Sirius delayed.

"Yes we," Harry punched his godfather's arm. "You know that I got stuck dragging your annoying as hell cousin with me and don't change the subject! How old were you?"

Sirius sighed, "You won't let up will you?" Harry shook his head. "Why me?" Harry just raised his eyebrows. "Got it, other choices include your parents and a werewolf." Sirius sighed again, "I was fifteen."

"And, um..." Sirius gave Harry an inquiring look. Harry almost never lost his composure, "was it a boy or a girl?" Sirius's eyebrows lifted even higher. "I know you date both, and I did some math. You were fifteen for your first, and I've known of about six or so a year, and there have to be others I don't know about, and we have to allow for a year without, so that figures at about seventy-five partners total on the conservative side. So even if you _weren't_ my godfather..."

Sirius had paled, which really was impressive considering how long they had been in the sun, "Seventy-five?"

"It's just a rough estimate," Harry was wondering exactly why this made Sirius look like someone had walked over his grave. After all, the man had to have some idea of how many people he had slept with.

"I...," Sirius swallowed, "I haven't really been counting." He suddenly remembered he was talking to his eleven year old godson and that James and Lily would certainly kill him if he corrupted their baby. "Harry you shouldn't... it's not really... I'm not exactly the best role model here."

Harry laughed, "I don't have plans to follow in your footsteps Padfoot. I'm not even sure how I feel about all that stuff to begin with. I don't even really like when people hug me, apart from family."

Harry skipped a pebble across the lake and Sirius appraised his godson. They all knew there were still issues left from how the Dursleys treated Harry and it was a topic of conversation every few months or so. Once Sirius had recovered enough from his stay in Azkaban, he, James, and Remus had paid a visit to Lily's sister. They hadn't hurt any of the Dursleys, but they had thoroughly frightened the two monsters that had mistreated Harry.

"Just promise me something Harry," Sirius said in his most serious tone.

Harry looked back at him and his green eyes glinted in the sun, "Anything."

"Don't rush into anything," Sirius gave his godson the advice he wished someone had cared enough to give him. He remembered that afternoon with Bill Weasley and a couple encounters since then and wondered if maybe he should do something to change this pattern of one night stands. He had a feeling Harry had underestimated by quite a few but did not want to think past that. "If you have any questions you can always come to me, and if you feel pressured or confused don't hesitate to call."

Harry grinned at him, "Sure Padfoot."

"There's one more thing Harry," Sirius had been dreading this. Harry just raised his eyebrows. "The wards around your aunt and uncle's house are failing. The only way to rebuild them is for you to spend at least one full month at their house."

Harry's face darkened and he scowled, "What do _they_ think about that."

"They haven't been told yet," Sirius told Harry, wishing there was some way to spare him from all of this. "There's no point in telling them how the wards can be fixed if you don't want to go there."

"What does Mum want?" Harry asked quickly. He picked up another pebble and threw it a little harder than the ones he had been skipping. This one went straight in and the ripples spread out across the water.

Sirius put a hand on his godson's shoulder, "No matter what happens Petunia is your mother's sister and Lily will always love her. At the same time she hates how Petunia has treated all of us, and especially you. She won't blame you if you choose not to renew the wards."

"But she still wants me to," Harry sighed. Sirius didn't answer and that was answer enough for him. "I'll do it, but I want to get it over with as soon as possible. I will _not_ be at their house for my birthday."

Harry didn't give Sirius a chance to answer; he stood and dove into the lake, knowing that Sirius would just head back to the Manor. There was no telling how long Harry would spend under the water. As he was able to control both air and water he was somehow able to breathe underwater. The first time he had gone swimming and stayed under for several minutes Sirius had panicked and pulled Harry out, ready to perform CPR. Harry had been fine, but confused.

When Harry surfaced it was nearing dinner time. He went inside and took a shower to wash off any muck from the lake that had stuck to his skin. When he stepped out of the steam filled bathroom he was greeted with the sound of a screaming infant.

"Well, I won't miss that," Harry mumbled to himself.

He pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a Slytherin polo shirt from his wardrobe. He had half an hour and figured he could get some reading in. He was surprised by a package on his bed though. He emptied the paper bag only to feel a blush rise on his cheeks. He darted his eyes around to make sure none of his siblings had ventured into his room. They had been a bit clingy his first week home but were finally settling down.

"I never should have asked him," Harry almost smacked his forehead.

Sirius had left not only a book of _Safe Spells for Safe Sex_, but also a wide variety of magazines. Some of them he didn't think he would ever even consider opening. Harry might not know much about sex yet, but he knew he wasn't interested in anything that involved pain and just based on the cover, that one certainly looked painful.

"Harry! Dinner!" Brie's singsong voice called up the stairs.

Harry quickly put all the magazines and the book back in the bag and spelled it so only he could get at them. The last thing he needed was for his mother to find out he had them because Alex and Ian managed to come across them. If Harry got caught on this one he was taking Sirius down with him.

The rest of the family, Sirius and Remus included, were waiting in the dining room.

"So when do I leave?"

"Leave?" Brie looked upset. "You just got home!"

"Tomorrow morning," Harry's dad pronounced. "Sirius told us your decision and your mother talked to her sister this afternoon. Harry will be back before you know it Brie. He has to go visit your Aunt and Uncle in Surrey."

It was clear that James was not at all pleased with this, so no more was said on the subject that night. Before he went to bed for the night Harry wrote a quick note to Fred and George. They had planned on visiting the Manor and meeting the Marauders the next week but it would have to be delayed.

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	11. Chapter 11

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**Chapter Eleven**

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One good thing about going to Surrey – Harry got to ride on Sirius's motorcycle, and even be at the controls for a short stretch. He loved riding with his godfather, but his mother was convinced of the unsafe nature of the bike. Whether or not they flew Harry loved it, loved the wind in his hair, the speed, and the sound of the engine roaring. After arriving at the Dursleys he had one more thing to add of his love for Siri's bike – the Dursleys highly disapproved.

It was a thrilling start to what was probably the most boring five weeks in Harry's existence. The instant he arrived at number four Privet Drive in Surrey he knew he was in for a living hell. While some might describe Harry as obsessive he was nothing when compared to his aunt. If her kitchen floor was not clean enough to perform open heart surgery on she had a fit, but his cousin Dudley was still allowed to do anything he wanted. Whenever Dudley left a room Aunt Petunia would appear there to thoroughly clean up after the whale-like slob.

At first they were frighteningly polite. Harry did his homework, both school and Remus assigned, in Dudley's second bedroom, which had been outfitted with a cot for his stay. After a few charms the cot was nice and comfortable. He wasn't given the guest bedroom on the off-chance that Vernon's sister Marge decided to visit. Harry was convinced that once he left they would burn the sheets and mattress he was using, and possibly even fumigate the room. After all, they did treat him like he had a contagious deadly disease.

Even though he was required to stay no more than a month, Dumbledore had determined that five weeks would ensure the wards would last through Harry's graduation. Harry was counting the days, and the big red X's on his calendar marked the end of each day on Privet Drive.

The odd thing was that he wasn't getting any post. Hedwig came and went and took the letters he wrote, but when she returned she had nothing for him. It worried Harry but he knew it was only a matter of time before he found out why. In a week it would be his birthday, and he was scheduled to leave the night before so he could wake up in his own bed on his birthday.

It was in that week before he left when everything went from odd to miserable. For days Harry had noticed his cousin looking at him strangely, but the nearly spherical idiot would look away as soon as he noticed Harry found him out. Harry didn't risk upsetting the nice balance where the Dursleys mostly ignored him, but still fed him, until his aunt and uncle were out for the night, leaving Harry and Dudley in the house for a few hours.

"What are you doing?" Harry's head snapped up to see Dudley in the doorframe, blocking nearly all the light from the hall. If his cousin didn't lose some weight he wouldn't be able to fit through the doors in his own house soon enough.

"Magic," was Harry's simple response. He was doing one of his control exercises, curling the fingers of each hand towards his palm and then straightening them. As a finger straightened the small ball of flame in each hand jumped to that finger, and then he curled that finger and it jumped to the next.

He had started with just one hand so many years ago his memory on it was hazy and then graduated to two hands. Years ago an interruption would have caused him to lose control and the fire would get away from him, but now he could do this one without looking, or even thinking about it. It was more a relaxation method than a necessary exercise now.

Dudley's piggy little eyes were wide open, "How..."

"You wouldn't understand if I told you Dudley," Harry sighed, brought all his fingers together and then flicked them out. The fire flared and disappeared with a puff of smoke. "What did you want?"

"You just think you're better than me because you can do magic," Dudley had gone from a slightly fearful awe to outright hostility.

It gave Harry a moment's pause. Did he think muggles were inferior? No, he answered himself; he knew that muggles were equal in intellect and cunning to wizards, and in art and music, even in war. He just thought that this particular muggle was inferior, not only to most wizards but to most other muggles as well.

"No Dudley," Harry answered, "magic doesn't make any one person better than another." Many of his friends would disagree, granted of course, that they considered themselves his friends. Why hadn't anyone written? It was then that he noticed Dudley was walking, or waddling more like, towards the desk in the room and starting to paw through Harry books and papers. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"What's this?" Dudley pulled out one of the magazines Sirius had given Harry and Harry cursed himself. He had gotten comfortable, complacent, too assured that none of the Dursleys would dare to touch his things for fear of being tainted by the magic.

"It's just a magazine," Harry lunged to grab it but Dudley turned with surprising agility for his size and held it out of reach. Harry hated his lack of height. He was going to make Sirius pay for this one when he got back to the Manor.

"It's a nudey mag!" Dudley exclaimed and started flipping through it while Harry chased him out of his room. "And the pictures move!"

"Dudley give that back!" Harry ordered, using his most commanding voice.

He was close to hexing his cousin, but he had promised his mother he wouldn't use magic on the Dursleys unless it became necessary. If he could control his emotions and his magic when faced with the disembodied spirit of Voldemort himself he could control his reaction to these relatives.

He didn't count on his aunt and uncle coming home early though, and apparently Dudley hadn't either. With their yelling neither boy heard the front door open and close, nor the footsteps into the kitchen where they stood on either side of the kitchen table. Harry felt his stomach sink when his uncle stepped into the room behind Dudley and took the magazine out of his hand.

The warnings from Sirius about how they were to treat Harry probably faded to insignificance. As Vernon Dursley looked through the magazine his neck turned purple and the color spread over his cheeks, his forehead, until his whole face was bright with rage. Harry could see a vein throbbing.

"You brought this filth into my house," Vernon was practically bellowing as he shook the magazine in Harry's face.

There was no point in denial. No muggle made a magazine where the pictures moved and they all knew it. The magazine was unceremoniously discarded in the garbage bin. Harry would have to figure out a way later to get it back, as it wouldn't do for a muggle to find it in a landfill somewhere. He said nothing, just glared at his uncle and cousin in disgust. Sirius was definitely going to hear about all of this. He had only brought them with him so his mum and siblings wouldn't stumble across them in his room.

"My poor Diddykins!" Harry rolled his eyes as his aunt led Dudley away.

Harry was not expecting the slap from his uncle, "Do not roll your eyes at your aunt. I don't know exactly why you're here. I suspect your parents didn't want a deviant like you underfoot all summer and foisted you off on us with some ridiculous story they concocted about bogeymen that might try to hurt us."

Harry was dumbfounded. He knew that muggles tended to explain away whatever magic they encountered, but this one had proof it was real, had known for years, and still didn't really believe.

Vernon pulled Harry by the neck of his shirt and dragged him up to Dudley's second bedroom. Harry was pushed onto the cot while his uncle went to his desk and started looking for other magazines. Everything else Sirius had given Harry was in his trunk, so his uncle didn't find anything. He started throwing books and parchment into the trunk though and Harry winced. The pages were probably being bent, and his summer homework was getting all wrinkled. He could fix it all with a few spells but he would rather his belongings did not get damaged to begin with.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked incredulously as his uncle hefted the trunk and started out his room.

"You'll get this back when you leave," Vernon snapped. "If you don't have access to your _freakish _stuff you will not be able to corrupt my son with it. Stay away from him."

If his uncle wasn't carting away all his belongings, including his clothes since there was no dresser or armoire for him in the room, he would have laughed. He didn't want anything to do with Dudley.

"What am I supposed to wear?" Harry challenged his uncle.

The man paused briefly in the doorway, "You may have some of Dudley's old things."

The door slammed on his way out. Harry had gotten past anger at his relatives fairly quickly and saw the whole situation as ludicrous. He took out his wand and set up a silencing ward on his room before he burst out laughing. Did his uncle actually think that by taking away his trunk he was taking away Harry's magic, or that his muggle locks could keep Harry from his belongings? It was just all too much.

Knowing there was only a week left Harry just took the old, overly large clothes without comment and started reading the books that Dudley had abandoned in his second bedroom. Judging by how the spines protested when he opened them Harry guessed that Dudley had never tried to read them, or even look at the pictures that graced a few.

"We are having guests tonight," Vernon Dursley announced at breakfast one morning. He puffed out his chest like a strutting bird, "The Masons are very important clients and this deal could make my career. The commission alone will get us that vacation home in Majorca." Harry watched his mother's sister perk up at that and Dudley just continued to shovel food into his mouth. Vernon pointed his fork at Harry and a bit of scrambled egg fell off onto the table, "They know nothing about you and they will not, is that clear?"

"Yes," Harry said simply. He had no desire to meet these people anyway, or any others actually associating with the Dursleys of their own free will. Harry already had learned far more that summer about drills than he ever wanted to know.

Harry's aunt fed him a quick dinner as she put the finishing touches on the dinner for the Masons. It was a bland unfulfilling meal that Harry wouldn't have fed to a dog. Then again, the only dog he really knew was his godfather's animagus form and if Harry was feeling particularly vindictive he might give him a meal like that.

"I don't have to put up with this Aunt Petunia. I am under no obligation to stay here for the renewal of wards for _your_ protection," Harry said in an undertone as he automatically washed his dishes. "For some reason, after everything you've done, my mother still loves you. I'm not of the belief that blood ties make family. To me you're all just another muggle family but I'd do anything within my power to keep Mum from feeling the slightest pain."

Harry didn't wait for a response from his aunt. He was done with his dishes so he went up the stairs and shut the door to Dudley's second bedroom. If he had to spend the night pretending he didn't exist he would at least get something out of it. Harry folded himself into the lotus position on the center of the floor and threw a locking spell at the door and cast a few extra wards on the room.

Within minutes his surroundings had faded away and Harry was working on some new personal warding that would hopefully deflect the most minor of curses. With a ward like that woven into his very magic he need not waste energy blocking minor curses and would be able to concentrate on more serious attacks on his person.

Harry registered somewhere the popping sound that indicated the arrival of a house elf and at first thought nothing of it, until he remembered he wasn't at the Manor. Slowly, Harry brought himself out of his meditative state.

The house elf was clearly not from the Manor. On first glance one house elf looks pretty much like another, but even then it was clear that this house elf did not have the kindest of masters. He wore what looked like a dirty rag and there were small scars on his ears and hands.

Harry could not remember a single instance of a house elf at Potter Manor being punished. Rather, he had several memories of the various Potters as well as Sirius, Remus, and Neville being scolded by the elves. One of them had even sent Harry and Neville to bed without supper one night.

"Who is your master and why are you here?" Harry asked pointedly. He had learned early on to be direct and specific with house elves as they had a tendency to interpret vague orders in very interesting ways.

"Dobby cannot say," the elf twisted his ears and looked very frightened. "Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Did your master send you to keep me from going back to school?"

"Bad Dobby," the elf started banging his head on the floor and Harry quickly set a stronger silencing spell around the room.

Harry lifted the elf up off the floor by the back of its dirty rag, "Do not punish yourself Dobby. I am going back to Hogwarts on September first. Even if I didn't want to I am sure my parents would send me."

"Hogwarts is not safe," Dobby continued and started wringing his hands instead of his ears. "Harry Potter sir must not go back."

"I am going back to Hogwarts," Harry said firmly. "I haven't seen any of my friends in over a month and I'll not stay home while they're all at school."

"Friends who don't write to Harry Potter?" Dobby's voice was leading.

Realization flashed across Harry's mind. He dropped the elf and held out his hand. He should have known, "Give me my letters Dobby."

"Dobby is sorry," the elf brought out a thick pile of folded parchment tied together with twine and handed it over. "Dobby thought if Harry Potter thought he had no friends Harry Potter would want to stay at home where he is safe."

Harry snatched the pile away and flipped through it quickly. There were letters from his parents, from Neville, his siblings, his Slytherin friends, Hermione, and the Weasley twins.

"I don't know who ordered you to stop my post but you will no longer interfere with my letters," Harry was getting very irritated with this elf.

House elves could act on their own if they were not strictly forbidden to do something, but he had never seen an elf to do this much without their master's approval, and judging by Dobby's actions he did not have that approval.

"Dobby is sorry, but Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts," in a flash his door was open and Dobby was headed down the stairs.

Harry chased after the elf, cursing in his head all the time. As the Dursleys were aware of magic he could do all the spells he wanted around them, but their guests were an entirely different story. He couldn't do magic if he was anywhere in sight of them.

When Harry got downstairs Dobby had floated the pudding that Aunt Petunia made for dessert over the head of a woman who had to be Mrs. Mason, "It is for Harry Potter's own good."

"Dobby, don't," Harry half growled. He would be visible in the reflection of the large bay window in the living room if the Masons looked and therefore magic was out of the question. Harry dove for Dobby, but was too late. The elf popped away and the pudding fell onto the woman's head as Harry fell on the floor.

She shrieked and everyone in the room turned to see him sprawled on the linoleum.

"I'm so sorry," Aunt Petunia was dabbing at the mess with a napkin. "Our nephew is visiting. He's always been disturbed around strangers."

Vernon hauled Harry to his feet and started to drag him toward the stairs. There was another shriek, one of an owl, followed quickly by a second shriek from the woman.

"What's the idea Dursley!" Mr. Mason boomed. "Don't you know my wife is scared to death of birds!"

The owl dropped a note on Harry's head, circled the living room, and flew out through the kitchen window. Harry cursed Dobby in his head. Why couldn't the elf have stopped that one? By the Ministry seal Harry knew exactly what the letter contained. It was a Ministry warning for performing magic in sight of muggles. As the Dursleys did not own any elves the magic would automatically be attributed to Harry.

Harry's uncle read the letter and his face started darkening towards that shade of irate purple again. He roughly dragged Harry up the stairs and shoved him into the second bedroom, not at all concerned that Harry hit his head on the edge of the desk as he fell, "Not allowed to use any of that funny stuff in front of us, eh? It would serve you right to get expelled from that school of yours."

The door slammed and Harry sighed. Only four more days and he would be back in the land of the sane. The front door slammed and Harry watched from his window as a furious Mr. Mason led a crying Mrs. Mason to their car. So much for Vernon's big deal and the vacation home in Majorca.

As per usual Harry was awake before any of the Dursleys. A quick spell healed the cut on the back of his head but he left the bruises he felt forming. He figured it would be best to stay out of sight, as his uncle was most likely still in a rage from the night before.

Harry knew his father could straighten out the misunderstanding down at the Ministry once Harry got home and explained it. He grabbed a quick bowl of cereal and went back up to his temporary room. There, he pulled out his floor mat from under the cot and proceeded to fold himself into pretzel-like positions while coordinating his movement with his breathing.

Noises of hammering invaded on his peace of mind and Harry stood and turned to face the window. He had to blink a few times and give himself a quick pinch to assure that the sight before him wasn't some bizarre hallucination.

Vernon Dursley was on a ladder outside his window nailing stylized bars in place, "I'd like to see you send that owl now."

The man was clearly demented. Once the bars were fixed Harry heard his uncle, out of breath, as he took down the ladder and eventually pounded up the stairs. His door flung wide open.

"You'll not be doing any of that funny stuff around my family you little freak," the door slammed shut and Harry heard a strange whirring noise. Then there was a much louder one which turned out to be some sort of electric saw. A hole was cut in his door and a cat flap installed. "You'll get your food through here."

They let him out twice a day to use the loo, and Harry's aunt had a mortified look on her face each time. Harry just raised his eyebrows at her the first time and she turned away, refusing to make eye contact. This had gone beyond ludicrous and Harry was starting to wonder if maybe his uncle was mentally disturbed. When had bars and locks ever kept a wizard in or out of anywhere?

August twenty-ninth arrived at a slow pace. Harry had read every book that Dudley had tossed aside and even worked on fixing the various broken toys in the room, mostly without magic. He had even attempted Legilimizing the Dursleys from a distance, a discipline he had only ever read about, but at the first glance of their thoughts wanted nothing more to do with that. The food that his aunt pushed through the cat flap was palatable but boring. The next day could not come soon enough for Harry.

It took longer than usual for Harry to fall asleep that night. He was anxious to leave, and a little worried at the reaction Sirius would have to Harry's imprisonment. His family had to be wondering why they hadn't heard from him the whole time he was there and starting to get worried. The letters he read showed that much, and not just from his parents. The Weasley twins had a wild imagination.

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	12. Chapter 12

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**Chapter Twelve**

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Tapping on his window woke him, and Harry stretched and got out of bed. He heard a wolf whistle at his window and felt a cool breeze on his skin.

"Harry sleeps in the buff!"

Harry was suddenly wide awake and looking at two identical red heads floating outside his window. He pulled on the slightly dirty clothing that he had been wearing the day his uncle took his trunk away and went over to see his friends on their brooms.

"What are you two doing?" Harry asked incredulously. They had to have flown for at least two hours to get from the Weasleys' home to Surrey.

"Um, rescuing you?" George said.

Harry laughed, "Okay, hold on a sec."

He pushed up on the lower sash of the window and opened it as wide as he could and then leaned out to look at how the bars were attached. He gave the twins a tentative glance, and then shrugged. Harry brought out his wand, recommended they backed up a bit, and blasted the bars off the house. It felt good to let out his annoyance with a nice explosion.

Fred and George climbed into Dudley's second bedroom and looked around in undisguised curiosity and a little disgust, "Guess you didn't really need us."

Harry laughed, "Not really, but it's probably best to leave now. I'd hate to see what Siri would do if he found out about this, probably wind up getting fined again and maybe suspended at work. I just need to get my trunk. It's locked in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Just leave that to me," Fred grinned and produced a thin piece of metal. He went to work on the locks on the door and George plopped down on the bed, "You never know when muggle techniques will come in handy."

"We've found that magic isn't always the best way," Fred grinned and opened the door. He checked the hall a little too dramatically for any Dursleys and left the room in an exaggerated sneaking walk. Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"So is this why you haven't been writing?" George asked, looking down into the flowerbed where the bars had fallen, taking most of the window frame with them. "We were getting worried."

"This is only a recent development," Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'll wait 'till Fred gets back and tell you both everything. This summer has certainly been interesting."

Fred came back with Harry's trunk and set it down by the bed. He looked around the room, "Is any of this yours?"

Harry shook his head. He checked his trunk to make sure everything was there, unwrinkled his parchment and neatened the books and pulled out his broom, suddenly glad he had decided to bring it to make sure Brie didn't sneak a ride.

"Um, neither of you saw this okay?" Both twins nodded and Harry shrunk his trunk with a wave of his wand and then took down his wards. He pocketed the miniature trunk under the awe-filled gaze of the twins. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"How did you..."

"Later, okay?" Harry felt a little apprehensive. He wasn't supposed to let others know about his exemption from the underage magic laws but there was no way he was balancing a full sized trunk on his broom for a two hour or more flight, and he had already shown them by blasting the bars off the window.

There was a loud squawk behind him and then a grunt and a bellow down the hall, "Shut that ruddy bird up or I'll do it myself!"

There were thumps of his uncle getting out of bed and Harry winced, "Shit. Mount up and get out of here." Harry saw the twins obey out of the corner of his eye as he released Hedwig from her cage. "I didn't forget you girl. Go straight to the Manor and I'll see you there."

Harry got on his broom and hovered outside the window as his uncle stormed into the room, "Where do you think you're going freak?"

"Uncle Vernon, your hospitality was like no other, truly unparalleled," Harry said with a wide smirk on his face. "I hope never to experience it again. Have a lousy day."

Fred and George were laughing hysterically as Harry joined them, still smirking.

"Oy Harry," George managed, "he looks like a giant eggplant!"

"Are all muggles that stupid?" Fred snorted.

"Nah," Harry shook his head. "Most of them are okay. I just have the luck of being related to the worst kind of them."

They rose to an altitude where it would be hard for muggles to distinguish between them and large birds. After about half an hour of peaceful soaring Harry checked his compass and changed course slightly.

"You two better come to the Manor with me," Harry said firmly. "I'm guessing your mum doesn't know you're not snug in bed?"

"Right in one," Fred grinned.

Harry told the story of his summer while they flew. Fred and George followed him and both of them almost fell of their brooms more than once from laughing so hard they lost their balance. Both of the twins were beginning to shiver so Harry gradually warmed the air around them. It was nearing dawn when the Manor came into view and he heard a low whistle behind him.

"It's huge!" George exclaimed and Fred nodded in agreement. For once, neither of the twins were joking or making lewd insinuations.

Harry shrugged. To him it was just home. His parents had rebuilt the Manor and what stood there was a sprawling Tutor style mansion, for lack of a better word. He went into a dive and landed just before the front door, the twins behind him.

"Just follow my lead," Harry said over his shoulder and opened the door. Whatever plans he made were destroyed when arms wrapped around his shoulders and his mother hugged him tightly.

"Where have you been all night?" she exclaimed. "You left Surrey hours ago. Didn't you know Padfoot was picking you up later today? And why haven't you written all summer?"

"Mum," Harry tried to get a word in while she examined him for nonexistent injuries. "Mum, I'm fine."

"Give the boy some air Lils," Harry's father came into view. "You two must be Fred and George. I assume Molly and Arthur have no idea where you are?" Sheepish grins were his only reply. "Lily, why don't you go Floo Molly and let her know her two miscreants are here and welcome to stay for a bit."

"Thanks Mr. Potter," Fred said fervently and George nodded agreement.

Harry's father laughed, "Stay as long as you like, but only if you never call me Mr. Potter again. You can use James or Prongs."

"We solemnly swear..."

"...not to call you Mr. Potter." Both of them raised their right hand as they swore.

James Potter lifted his eyebrows and look at the twin redheads with interest, "We _will_ talk later. Now you," James mussed Harry's hair, "tell me what happened before your mother gets back."

"I'd rather not Dad," Harry looked down and sighed, then looked up at his father again. "Let's just leave it at they didn't do anything to hurt me."

"And that Ministry warning?" James Potter's eyes were hard, his jaw tight.

"Someone's house elf decided to pop in and try to stop me from going back to school, filthy rags, scars," Harry felt a little guilty at snapping so much at the obviously maltreated elf. "I'd say he belongs to a dark family. The hover charm was him."

"I'll take care of it," James nodded. "I assume you three are rather tired after all that flying. Show your friends upstairs and I'll send up one of the elves with breakfast for three."

"Thanks Dad," Harry grinned and motioned for the twins to follow him. They ran up the stairs and headed towards the bedrooms of the Potter children, which all had connecting guest rooms and their own bathrooms. "You two can stay here...oof!"

"Harry!" Brie squeezed her older brother and Harry swung her up in the air.

"Hi there Brie-Brie," Harry kissed her forehead and set her down. "This is Fred and George Weasley. Don't bother trying to tell them apart as they'll answer to each other's name anyway."

Two more streaks of dark hair entered the room and collided with Harry's legs. He ruffled his little brothers' hair, "Tell me all about the mischief you've been getting into while I was bored to tears by our whale of a cousin."

Harry grinned and winked at Fred and George as three voices began talking at once, and then started arguing with each other. Breakfast for six ended up in Harry's room and his siblings spent the morning vying for his attention.

"That's enough," Lily Potter poked her head in the door. "It's time for lessons for you three." Brie, Alex, and Ian protested but eventually filed out of the room obediently. "Molly is not at all pleased with you for leaving in the middle of the night with no note but agreed to let you stay here for a week. Harry, she'll take you and Neville to Diagon Alley with the rest of her brood and to the station this year."

"Wicked," George grinned.

"Thanks Mrs. Potter!" Fred echoed his twin's grin and Harry's mum shut the door behind her.

"The wrath of Mum has been forestalled," George flopped back on Harry's bed.

"Thank Merlin."

Harry almost forgot all about the Dursleys and Dobby in the following week. Fred and George were almost entirely silent and awestruck at dinner that night. Sirius, Remus, and James were all well aware that the twins idolized them and were doing their best to outdo each other. Harry just sat silently and his eyes sparkled with silent laughter. Brie caught on and joined in on the Marauder mayhem while Lily had her hands full with her own twins.

Neville spent most of the week at the Manor as well and Harry and the twins helped him finish his homework, though they readily admitted they hadn't started their work yet. A few ironing and repair spells had Harry's parchment and books looking as good as new.

The remaining weeks of the summer were spent almost entirely outside, with a good deal of time underwater. Harry turned down an invitation to spend the last week of summer with the Weasleys since he had not had much time with his family. He had missed so much of Alex and Ian growing up that he barely knew them.

He did agree to spend the last night of the holiday at the Burrow, as the Weasleys called their home, along with Neville to make getting to the train station much easier. They all planned to meet in Diagon Alley that day and then go back to the Burrow. Harry was interested to meet the twins' parents. He knew that his own parents knew them, and that Mr. Weasley worked at the Ministry, but not much else.

He hated the Floo Network with a passion. Without fail, Harry somehow always managed to end up at the wrong gate. He theorized it was somehow caused by his elemental skills interacting with all the fireplaces. This trip was no different but Neville would no doubt inform the Weasleys that Harry would catch up soon enough, as soon as he figured out where he was. He was in a shop that just screamed dark magic and Harry heaved a sigh.

_Wonderful_, he thought, _I've landed in Knockturn Alley. How in the hell did I manage that? _Voices made Harry aware that he was not alone. He heard a condescending man bartering with the store keeper, and then a familiar voice cut in. _This just gets better and better. Why couldn't I go one more day Malfoy-free?_

When the Malfoys left the store Harry pulled his cloak hood over his head to hide his face. His short stature did not give away his age, as there were several nonhuman races that frequented the Alleys. He shouldered his way through the crowd and came out to Diagon Alley unscathed and very much relieved, almost caught by Hagrid. He could easily handle himself but it was much better to avoid confrontation whenever possible.

"Harry!" It was almost like one of his siblings. There was a blur of light brown frizzy hair before he was engulfed in a tight hug.

"Hey Hermione," Harry smiled and hugged the girl back a little stiffly. He had never been very comfortable with hugs, except for those from his family.

"I was so worried until I got your letter," Hermione was talking a mile a minute again while they weaved through the crowds. "Why would a house elf want to stop you from getting post or going to school, and what, precisely, is a house elf? They're not in any of our books and I don't have access to any library that could help me there while I'm at home. Oh! The Weasleys are at the bookstore waiting for us with Neville, and you can meet my parents! Mr. Weasley has them a bit overwhelmed with all his questions about muggles."

Harry just nodded as she talked and examined their surroundings as they walked towards Flourish and Blotts. There was a long line outside the store, which was rather odd. He'd never seen anything like it, but it was all explained by the large poster set up on an easel outside the store.

Gilderoy Lockhart was inside signing autographs. Harry groaned. The one area where he and Brie strongly disagreed was Lockhart. His little sister had an enormous poster of the man in her room and Harry was disgusted. Brie would be green with envy when she found out about this.

They made their way towards the front of the line and Hermione continued to talk about her summer. Every few sentences Harry made an approving noise to let her know he was at least partially listening. He had learned that one from his father and Remus for whenever Sirius got going.

"It can't be... Harry Potter!" Chaos nearly broke out in the store and Harry tried to squirm out of the grasp of the hand that had just grabbed his arm and was hauling him towards the front of the line. "Smile boy, together you and I rate the front page!"

Harry looked up into the smiling visage of Gilderoy Lockhart and practically growled with displeasure. That he had without a doubt picked up from Remus. He held out a hand to the cameraman, "Stop." He turned to Lockhart. "I have no desire to be on the front page, or any other page. You use any picture of me and my family will sue for unlicensed use of my image."

Lockhart completely ignored him, which was a new one for Harry. Most people either did what he said without question or argued loudly. He had a sneaking suspicion that if told the wizarding world to go fuck itself most of it would try. There was a tiny part of him that was always tempted to try, but his sanity would kick in and chide him for even entertaining the thought. It shouldn't have surprised him that he ended up in Slytherin.

By the time Harry escaped to join the Weasleys, Hermione, and Neville he had a full set of autographed Lockhart books free of charge. If he had his way they would go the way of any book Dudley Dursley ever got, unread and gathering dust. It was dark creature year in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Harry was prepared to sleep through the classes all year. After all, he lived with a dark creature. There was nothing Lockhart could teach him that Remus hadn't.

"Where were you mate?" Fred slung an arm across Harry's shoulders.

George took the side and encircled Harry's waist, "Yeah, which grate did you come out at?"

Harry smirked, knowing the twins would be envious, "Knockturn Alley."

Hermione gasped, horrified, and the twins started pestering him with questions about what it was like. They, like most children, were strictly forbidden to set foot down Knockturn Alley. Harry just kept smirking and refused to answer so the twins decided to torture the answer out of him. Just outside the store Fred pinned Harry's arms while George started tickling.

"Neville!" Harry managed to gasp out between short breaths and squealing, "Help me!"

Neville was no use. He and Hermione were laughing too hard to do a thing in his aid. Tears were streaming down his face from laughing so hard. Harry kicked at George and Fred had to lean back to keep Harry from falling. All of a sudden the laughter of his friends stopped and Fred let go. Completely unprepared to support his own weight Harry fell to the ground with a jolt.

"Ow," Harry stood and rubbed his backside. He smacked Fred's arm. "That hurt Fred!"

There was a snort and Harry saw why all mirth had quickly drained out of his friends, "You call yourself a Slytherin Potter? Have some dignity."

"Malfoy," Harry nodded politely. He dusted off his robes and looked around at his friends. There was a squeak and flash of red darted back into the store, "Um, what was that?"

"Ginny..."

"...our little sister," the twins said shortly.

Harry just shook his head. He had gotten similar reactions from other kids for years, and even from an adult or two who suddenly found themselves at a loss for words when faced with The-Boy-Who-Lived. It got pretty annoying.

"Consorting with Gryffindors Potter?" Malfoy looked at the Weasleys and sniffed as though something smelled bad. "Maybe you should petition to switch houses."

"I think I'll stay where I am," Harry kept his voice aloof. One would be hard pressed to tell that only moments earlier he had been on the ground and out of breath from a tickle attack. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of my much sought after company."

Draco opened his mouth to retort but stopped when a hand fell on his shoulder, "Play nice Draco."

"Father," Draco nodded at his father, "this is Harry Potter." He then motioned to the others dismissively. "The rest are Gryffindors."

"I was quite surprised to hear of your sorting Mr. Potter," Lucius Malfoy did not even bother to look at the others.

"You and the rest of the world, sir," Harry tipped his head politely, "but the sorting hat was quite adamant. I never even had a chance to express my wishes."

"You would rather be a Gryffindor?" Malfoy said in disgust.

Harry shrugged casually, "Slytherin suits me. If I was in Gryffindor I'd have to guard against the dangerous duo constantly."

"Why thank you Harry," Fred grinned at him.

"Glad to know you think so highly of us," George grinned as well and ruffled Harry's already quite messed up hair.

Now that they had become part of the conversation Lucius had to acknowledge the Weasleys, Neville, and Hermione and did so with a look of utter distaste on his face. It was just then that Ginny came back in the company of her father and the Grangers.

"Weasley," Lucius acknowledged, "with all those raids you've been conducting I hope they're paying you overtime." He picked a book out of Ginny's cauldron and looked it over, clearly secondhand with the worn spine and fraying cover, "clearly not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizardry if they don't pay you for it?"

"You and I have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley spat out.

The elder Malfoy caught sight of the Grangers and before anyone really knew what was happening the conversation degraded into a brawl. Mr. Weasley knocked Mr. Malfoy back into a display of used books set up just outside the door and a crowd formed.

"Break it up gents," Hagrid came up and separated the two. Mr. Weasley had a split lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by a used version of _The Book of Standard Spells, Grade Six_.

The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Neville finished their shopping as quickly as they could and they all headed away from the Alley. Harry prepared himself for another Floo trip and miraculously fell out of the grate into the Weasleys' living room. Neville was put in Ron's room for the night and Harry bunked with the twins.

Ginny squeaked whenever Harry looked at her and turned bright red. She even put her elbow in the butter dish by accident at dinner. Harry and the twins stayed up late talking that night and Harry insisted that they pack before they went to sleep, knowing from the winter holiday and the week at the Manor that waking the twins up was rather difficult.

"Well, the summer was certainly eventful," Harry commented as he drifted off.

Twin snickers sounded across the room.

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	13. Chapter 13

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**Chapter Thirteen**

**Second Year**

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Despite getting the twins to pack the night before, they were late leaving the Burrow for the train station. All the trunks were packed into the boot of Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia, which had to be magically expanded in order to fit so many trunks. Harry lifted an eyebrow at Mr. Weasley, who winked and grinned in response. Harry just shook his head. If the man was fifteen years younger he would have been a Marauder. He would have to get Mr. Weasley together with them without Mrs. Weasley and Harry's mum sometime.

They were all taking the barrier at a run, as they had no time to waste in discretion. Harry, Neville, and Ron were the last to go and Harry had no inkling that anything was wrong until his trolley rebounded off the barrier and Neville and Ron both crashed into him.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" an irate conductor looked down at them.

"Sorry sir," Harry winced. He would have wicked bruises on each leg where Neville's trolley hit and where he had been pushed into his own trolley. One ankle was aching as if it had been sprained.

"Sorry," Neville and Ron chorused.

The clock sounded the hour and Harry cursed, drawing more looks from the station's patrons. One mother put her hands over her little son's ears and hurried him forward. The three Hogwarts students got their belongings in order and just stood there for a minute.

"We've missed the train," Neville moaned.

"What the bloody hell was that Potter?" Weasley hissed.

Harry sneered. Ron Weasley would never be even remotely nice to him and he was sick of being polite, "What do you think _Weasel_? The barrier is sealed. We can't get through, and even if we could the train is gone."

"What if your parents can't get back?" Neville's eyes widened as he turned to Ron.

"We'll wait for them in the car," Harry decided. "They won't leave it behind."

"The car!" Ron exclaimed as though he had thought of something brilliant.

Harry rolled his eyes, and started to say something biting but Neville shot him a pleading look. Harry sighed and followed the lanky redhead silently, using all his energy not to limp. He guessed that Weasel could be a decent person, as Neville and Hermione had developed a friendship with him, but Harry hadn't seen any proof of Weasel's basic manners or understanding.

They piled their trunks back into the boot and Neville and Harry got in the backseat of the Ford along with all the pets. Harry propped his feet up on the seat in front of him, remembering something about keeping a sprain elevated to keep down swelling, and Weasel sat in the driver's seat.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on relaxing, cooling the air around his injured ankle to further reduce swelling. They had hours before the train arrived at Hogwarts and there were dozens of ways to get there. If the Weasleys didn't turn up Harry figured they could grab a taxi and Floo to Hogsmeade from the Leaky Cauldron. He always had some muggle money on him in case of an emergency. His parents insisted.

"Um, what are you doing Ron?" Neville's voice made Harry open his eyes and sit up, and the rumble of the car's engine made him take out his wand.

"You blooming idiot!" Harry yelled. "Do you even know how to drive?"

Weasley snorted at Harry, "Of course I do!"

"What exactly are you planning?" Harry said with as much calm as he could muster.

"You'll see," Weasley grinned back at them and Harry glared. He did not like this one bit. His apprehensions were justified when with a great lurch the car took to the air. Harry definitely had to get Mr. Weasley and Sirius together... if he lived through this.

"You moron!" Harry scrambled into the front passenger seat, wincing at the pain from his ankle, and scanned the buttons on the car. He located one marked 'Invisibility Booster' and punched it. "Muggles do not expect to see flying cars in the middle of London! How long has your father had this car?"

"A few years I think," Weasley gave Harry a superior look.

Harry just rubbed his temples and looked back at Neville, who looked rather helpless and a little ill as he wrestled with a seatbelt. Harry thought that looked like a wonderful idea and got his own belt firmly in place.

"That means it's not grandfathered in and the enchantments are illegal," Harry muttered. "You're going to get all of us expelled and your father fired."

"No one will find out," Ron waved off Harry's objections. "The twins have taken the car out loads of times and no one ever knew. Now, which way is Hogwarts?"

"North," Harry and Neville said together, though where Harry's voice was dry with disdain Neville's was panicky.

"Oh yeah," Weasley steered around a building and rose higher, looking at the dashboard compass to get their bearing right.

Harry sighed. He was stuck unless he wanted to jump out and see if he could manage to fly without a broom. If he manipulated the air currents just right... Harry cut off that train of thought. His mum would have a heart attack if he ever tried it and it would mean leaving Neville behind.

"Just find the train and follow it," Harry said shortly. "I renew my objection to this entire idiotic escapade. We could have gotten to Hogwarts easily without breaking a dozen laws along the way."

"I second," Neville said timidly behind him.

Weasley just adjusted himself in the seat and puffed his chest out smugly, "You'll see. We'll get there before the train and everything will be fine."

"And the car?" Harry reminded him.

Weasley shrugged, "It knows the way home."

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and decided that any further argument was pointless. He would have to avoid the idiot for days unless he didn't mind getting stuck in detention for cursing the snot out of him, or just breaking his nose with a well placed fist.

They did not get to Hogwarts before the train, and while it turned out that Weasley did know more or less how to drive the car he didn't know how to land it, especially when it ran out of gas and lost its invisibility. Harry gripped the dashboard as the car lurched its way to the Whomping Willow. His eyes widened and he managed one loud curse before they hit the tree.

The car was tossed around for a few minutes before it got away from the tree and spit out its occupants and their belongings on the lawns. Hedwig squawked with anger and flew off for the owlery, cuffing Weasley on his head with one wing on her way. Harry levitated his trunk towards the pile of trunks that had been unloaded from the train and Neville and Weasley lifted their trunks and joined him. He suspected yet another bruise was forming across his chest where the seatbelt caught him.

With a roar of its engine the battered car lumbered away towards Hagrid's hut and entered the Forbidden Forest.

They peeked into the great hall on their way inside and saw the sorting had already started. Ginny stood with the other first years at the front of the hall, her flaming hair like a beacon that stood out among them all. McGonagall held the hat in one hand and her list of students in the other. The scene was soon gone as they passed the windows and entered the castle.

"It wasn't too bad," Weasley said with a grin. Then he felt around his pockets and pulled out his wand, which had been bent until it had nearly snapped in two. "My wand!"

"Your _wand? Your wand!_" Harry exploded in anger. "You nearly killed us you... you..."

"Harry," Neville said calmingly and stepped between them.

"No Nev," Harry was nearly seeing red. He felt magic swirling and the torches all along the corridor flared. Weasley's eyes widened and he cowered behind Neville.

"Do continue Mr. Potter," a harsh voice said from up a flight of stairs and snapped him out his concentration. "I don't imagine you could possibly be in any more trouble than you already face. Follow me."

Snape led them to his office. It did not feel nearly as comfortable as the last time Harry had been there. No doubt he would have been worrying about his own fate if he was not so angry at Weasley. Harry hadn't been this bruised since Sirius had decided to teach Harry how to fistfight, and he was guessing this time was much worse. He was tempted to put those lessons to use right about then.

"You were seen," Snape glared down at all of them and Harry felt that sinking feeling that had been missing as the rest of his anger drained away. Harry had never, well... rarely been able to hold a grudge. He got angry quickly and fiercely, but it vanished just as quickly. It was a good balance to his godfather, who could stay angry for some stupid small incident for years. Snape waved a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in their faces, "FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES!" He went on to read the article and by the time he was done Weasley was cowering and Harry and Neville were glaring at him. "Explain yourselves!"

"_Brainless _here decided it might be a lark to break a dozen laws and fly to school when the barrier wouldn't let us through," Harry said through clenched teeth. He was furious again. No doubt his parents already knew he didn't make the train. Dumbledore would have told them right away. They also would have seen the paper and put two and two together, hopefully not getting five as a result.

Snape raised his eyebrows and a silent communication passed between them. They would talk about it later. "Longbottom?"

"Harry and I tried to stop him sir," Neville was shaking under the glare but not stuttering for once. Harry was rather proud. "It was Harry's idea to wait in the car, but just to wait for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley once they figured out we couldn't get through."

"Mr. Weasley if you were in my house you would be on that train..."

"Luckily for Mr. Weasley he is not," Dumbledore's voice came from behind them. Harry turned to see the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall.

"Professor," Weasley latched onto his Head's presence like a lifeline, "technically school hasn't started yet, so Gryffindor doesn't have to lose points..."

McGonagall looked down at Weasley with a withering stare which shut him up immediately. Harry decided that the whole situation would be highly amusing if he wasn't still in danger of expulsion and aching like crazy.

"No points will be taken," McGonagall said and Harry could see the relief on Weasley's face. The redhead was in for a nasty shock if he thought he had just gotten away with it. "You will all be serving detention."

"With all due respect Ma'am," Harry spoke up and McGonagall looked slightly shocked at his objection. Harry was mad enough right then that he didn't care what his parents' favorite professor thought, "Neville and I not only had no idea the car was enchanted, but objected rather strongly when Weasley started it. I only stopped short of hexing him, and that was quite a temptation. The only way we could have avoided this mess was to jump out of the car when it was already airborne."

McGonagall looked at Neville, who nodded quickly but hadn't said a word without being asked. "Mr. Weasley will have two detentions with Mr. Filch. Mr. Longbottom will serve one with Professor Sprout. I will leave your fate, Mr. Potter, to your Head of House."

"Professor?" Weasley spoke up again and Harry wondered if the git had any sense of self-preservation. "Can we go to the feast? I wanted to see my sister sorted."

"You may not," McGonagall said sternly. "The sorting is over. Genevieve is in Gryffindor." Weasley's head finally dropped. "You two come with me. I will be writing both your parents."

Harry gave Neville a little wave, and Neville waved back, looking quite ill. Harry felt sorry for him. He had no doubt that breakfast would see two howlers, possibly three if Snape wrote to Harry's parents as well.

"Sit Potter," Snape commanded. Harry obeyed with a bit of relief. Anger was tiring. "The barrier was closed against you?"

Harry nodded. Snape called a house elf and had two plates of food sent up with drinks. Harry thanked him and ate about half his food before answering, as he hadn't had lunch thanks to Weasel, "It was solid like any other brick wall, and yes I'm sure it was the right barrier. We were right behind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Does the barrier close when the train leaves?"

"No," Snape answered shortly. The professor had a thoughtful look on his face, "It would take powerful magic to befuddle something like that barrier."

Harry nodded and thought it over, "There was this house elf..." Snape raised a single eyebrow and Harry just stared for a moment. He wondered if he could manage it. The eyebrow was the only thing on the man's face that moved. It was fascinating. He snapped back to reality, "It came to my relative's house this summer and told me it wasn't safe to come back to Hogwarts. It had intercepted my post for over a month."

"Its name?" Snape's eyebrow dropped back into place. Harry was a little in awe at the man's control over his facial features. Harry was good, but nowhere near that good.

"Dobby," Harry stated and saw that recognition flashed on the man's face. "You know who owns him!"

"Indeed. I will take care of this Potter," Snape said firmly. Harry recognized the tone as one his father used when there was to be no further discussion on a subject. "I have no doubt that you were the victim of a rather childish prank. The feast will end shortly. Inform your housemates that you were thoroughly chastised for your indiscretion. Remember Potter, Slytherins frequently bend the rules, but they do not get caught."

Harry couldn't help the smirk that formed, "Yes sir."

He was greeted with overlapping questions when he entered the common room. Malfoy and his friends were laughing and speculating on how long it would take for Mr. Weasley to get fired because of the car.

"I had half a mind to hex Weasley so hard his future children would feel it but had no desire to plummet to my death today," Harry finished his explanation. "Now if you don't all mind I'm sure I'm covered in bruises. I'm taking a potion and going to sleep."

Up in his dorm Harry fished through his trunk until he found the first-aid kit that his mother insisted he bring with him. She said he needn't bother Poppy with every little bruise and scrape. He pulled out the bruise cream and stripped. He had bruises from the trolleys and luggage, one across his chest from the seatbelt, and numerous scattered bruises from the crash. The worst though, was his right ankle, swollen and discolored. Harry drank an anti-inflammatory potion and the swelling went down.

"Ouch," Blaise and Theodore Nott came in the room and both of them winced upon seeing Harry. "You weren't kidding mate. Your ankle looks a mess."

"Keep me as far away from Weasel boy as you can if you don't want Slytherin in negative numbers before classes even start," Harry said angrily. The fire in the fireplace flared just a bit and Nott jumped.

"It's tempting to let you have a go at him Potter," Malfoy said. He and his goons must have come in behind Blaise and Nott. "Flambéed Weasel is a delicacy in some countries."

Everyone except Harry and Malfoy laughed. Harry was too busy twisting himself to reach his back. How he had managed to get bruised there was beyond him. As usual Malfoy took his pajamas into the bathroom and came back changed with his hair hanging in his face.

Harry had finished applying the cream by the time his roommates were all dressed for bed and closing their curtains. Rather than finding his toiletries and going to the bathroom Harry used a few charms to brush his teeth and wash his face and then climbed into bed and almost instantly fell asleep.

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	14. Chapter 14

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**Chapter Fourteen**

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As was usual Harry was the first in his room to wake. With his roommates still snoring he slipped into a pair of loose pants, pulled his mat out from under his bed, and began the yoga routine he had been using every morning for the past five years. His ankle hurt all through it, but he pushed on and took another potion then took out an elastic bandage to wrap his ankle later. Once he felt completely limber he added in his toning exercises and an hour later made his way into the showers, the room still filled with the sounds of sleep.

"Mornin' 'Arry," Theodore Nott yawned as he stumbled past Harry and sleepily headed for the showers. Nott was a borderline Slytherin where Harry was concerned, friends with Blaise but not with Harry and yet did not purposefully antagonize him in any way.

The day got steadily worse from there. Draco Malfoy was not a morning person and inflicted the rest of his year-mates with his morning grumpiness. The sky in the great hall reflected Harry's mood when he got there, grey and dull. The wide variety of foods offered by the Hogwarts elves for breakfast every morning did nothing to improve his mood, or the mood of anyone around him. Most of Slytherin seemed to have woken on the wrong side of the bed that morning.

Raucous laughter came from Malfoy and his friends when the howlers delivered to Weasel and Neville competed for attention, trying to outdo each other in volume. It was all Malfoy talked about all morning, through Herbology with the Ravenclaws and History of Magic. Harry was thoroughly sick of the sound of his roommate's voice and thought the day couldn't get any worse when a bright flash of light greeted him at the base of the stairs on his way to lunch.

Instinctually, Harry dropped, rolled, and pulled out his wand, looking for the threat. His ankle started to throb again.

"Sorry Harry!" the bright voice of an unknown first year called out. "Everyone's told me about you and I wanted a picture. Do you think maybe you could sign it to prove to my parents that I really met you? They're muggles. I got sorted into Gryffindor, just like your parents."

The kid continued to ramble on and Harry put his wand away, realizing that the flash had been from a camera, not a curse. He cut the kid off, "What's your name?"

"Colin," the kid piped up, glowing, "Colin Creevey."

"Look Colin," Harry said as nicely as he could manage through the snickers of the other Slytherins, "I hate having my picture taken by anyone, even my parents."

"Starting a fanclub Potter?" Weasley asked snidely. Seamus Finnigan, who was walking with him, laughed at the suggestion. He had never been particularly rude to Harry, but hadn't been exactly nice either. "Are you signing autographs now?"

"What's this about signing autographs?" Harry groaned as Lockhart walked up. The annoying ponce wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, "Get us both and we'll both sign it." Colin enthusiastically snapped the picture before Harry could say a word. Lockhart pulled Harry aside, "I won't cover for you next time. Beating You-Know-Who was years ago Harry, and it's not exactly Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile."

"Eat slugs Malfoy!" Weasley snapped and stormed into the great hall. Harry had missed the rest of their exchange.

"That... that...," Harry was steaming.

"Pretty boy?" Blaise suggested.

"Poncy git?" Tracey added her input.

"Annoying, blooming idiot, worthless, waste of magic," Harry finished viciously. "His carrying a wand is an embarrassment!"

"So you're saying he should be a muggle?" Malfoy asked from nearby.

"Yes... No," Harry was frustrated at his own frustration. Keeping control was so much easier when the only people he had contact with were his family. "I wouldn't fob that idiot on the majority of wizards _or_ muggles."

"Sounds like someone's a little confused," Malfoy practically whispered in Harry's ear before striding ahead of him to the Slytherin table.

"What did he say?" Blaise was at Harry's side looking a little concerned, but not enough to be noticed by most.

Harry waved it away, "Nothing, he's just being a git like usual."

The week passed in a flurry of classes, books, essays, potions, and of course, fights between Malfoy and Weasel. Harry never thought he'd side with Malfoy, but he was so mad at the Weasel that he found himself smirking at the misfortune caused by the broken wand. In the library, during the little time they managed to see each other, Neville and Hermione told Harry about episodes in Charms and Transfiguration when Weasel's wand backfired on him. It was a bright spot in a busy week.

By the time the weekend came Harry figured he deserved the rest. For the students' second year the professors all jumped right in with the work load, rather than the introduction to magic from the year before. After a summer of lazing around, for most of them, it was a dramatic change. For Harry it was welcome in comparison to the time spent with his so-called-relatives.

As he bent backwards and placed his palms on the floor, then walked them to rest by his feet, his ankle finally feeling better, Harry was a little surprised to see the door to his room open and the upside-down visage of his Quidditch Captain greeting him with a shocked look.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing Potter?" Flint sounded truly aghast.

Harry flexed his elbows and knees before straightening them fully and standing up. He turned to face his Captain, "Yoga. Why are you up early Flint?"

Marcus Flint was looking at Harry like he was another species that he couldn't quite identify, "Practice in ten, and bring Malfoy."

"You want _me_ to wake the slumbering dragon?" Harry objected. He had seen what Malfoy was like when Crabbe or Goyle woke him, "And why is he coming?"

"Malfoy's father bought new brooms for the team, so he's our new chaser. Deal with it Potter," Flint snapped at him and slammed the door shut. There was some mumbling from Blaise's bed but no one seemed to actually wake from the noise.

Harry sighed and approached Malfoy's bed, deciding on the best way to wake him. He decided to just pretend he was waking Sirius, which could be a rather dangerous endeavor, and cast a shield around himself first. Then he took a deep breath and focused, allowing himself to do something he had never done at Hogwarts before. He called a sheet of icy water, hovering just inches above Malfoy, and with a grin he released it.

Malfoy spluttered and bolting into a sitting position, his wand in hand almost as quickly as Harry would have had his, _Stupefy!_ The curse careened off the edge of Harry's shield and hit the wall, as it was not really aimed at anything. Harry tried to keep his laughter silent, but it was nearly impossible. Malfoy looked like a drowned, shivering rat. The next curse bounced off Harry's shield and hit Goyle, who slept through the feathers that erupted from his skin.

"What did you do that for?" Malfoy yelled at Harry, losing his cool composure.

Harry kept snickering, but cast a drying and warming charm on Malfoy and his bed. The blond did not look at all thankful, "Quidditch practice in seven minutes Malfoy. Get dressed and don't bother with a shower. You'll need one after."

He ignored his grumbling roommate while he stripped off his yoga pants and pulled on his practice quidditch robes and grabbed his broom. He didn't care what Malfoy Sr. bought for the team. Malfoy came out of the bathroom similarly dressed and they headed down to the common room together.

"I'll get you for that one Potter," Malfoy growled.

"Just add it to my tab," Harry was not going to let Malfoy ruin his good mood.

Flint was standing by seven gleaming brooms propped against the far wall. As soon as the team was gathered around him he began his speech, "This is our year. We have the best brooms and the best players. Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance. Now," a wicked glint came into his eye, "I have it on good authority that the Gryffs got up at the crack of dawn to practice this morning, but I got special permission from Snape to use the pitch, seeing as we have to train our new Chaser." Malfoy smirked. "Everyone grab a broom and let's go." Harry started for the door and Flint pulled him aside. "Did you hear what I said Potter?"

"Of course I did," Harry looked the sixth year in the eye. "There's nothing wrong with my broom and I've been practicing on it all summer. I'll keep using it unless one of the other seekers gets something faster."

"Fine," Flint growled, "but if you don't catch the snitch I'm taking it out of your hide."

Harry just raised an eyebrow, or tried to, practicing that move that Snape perfected, "I'll catch it."

The Slytherins strode outside, exuding confidence, their faces all showing the absolute belief that there wasn't a team that could beat them. It was just their luck that they intersected the Gryffindors, bleary-eyed and slouching, as they came out of the locker rooms. Harry noticed Weasel coming over with his face like a storm cloud, Neville and Hermione trailing after him. Neville looked extremely uncomfortable and Hermione had the ever present book in her arms.

"What's the meaning of this?" Oliver Wood asked angrily. Harry noticed that the twins, who had been leaning on each other, perked up and looked at Harry hopefully. More than one Gryffindor hand strayed to wherever it was they kept their wand.

Flint handed over a slip of parchment, "We have special permission to use the pitch to train our new Chaser."

"You have a new Chaser," Wood looked like he was barely containing a curse. "Who's your new Chaser?"

"Draco's father generously provided the Slytherin team with new brooms," Flint said smugly as Draco stepped forward from behind the rather bulky Beaters.

"At least no one on Gryffindor had to buy their way onto the team," Hermione commented just loud enough for everyone there to hear. "They all made the team with pure talent."

"What would you know about talent," Malfoy said with a cold smirk, "you filthy Mudblood."

One minute it was like everyone there had been hit with a petrifying hex, and the next they all leapt into action. They Gryffindors jumped forward in defense of Hermione while the Slytherins held them off. Neville had Hermione by the arm and was whispering into her ear, her face growing red as he explained. Harry stood back, just barely able to keep from pummeling Malfoy into the ground himself.

It was looking to be an all-out brawl until Weasel pulled his broken wand and pointed it under Flint's arm at Malfoy. A jet of puce green light shot out of the wrong end of the wand and hit Weasel's stomach. All action stopped as everyone stared at Weasel to see the outcome of the curse. For a second he looked fine, then his face turned a sickly pale green, he opened his mouth and clutched his stomach, dropped to his knees and spewed out three slimy slugs.

The Slytherins all started laughing, Harry no exception, and it looked like the Weasley twins were even having a bit of trouble keeping themselves from laughing at their brother's misfortune.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione squealed and dropped to his side.

"Let's get him out of here," Neville pulled at Weasel's arm and Hermione grabbed the other. The three of them headed towards Hagrid's hut.

The steam had been let out of the Gryffindors and the Weasley twins started their retreat to the castle, but not before stopped and whispering to Harry, "Thanks mate. He's had us listening to strategies for hours. We can't wait to get back to bed."

Harry stifled a laugh and joined his team as they made their way to the pitch in high spirits. They had a successful practice, and Harry had to admit that Malfoy, despite being a little bastard, flew very well. He waited until they were back in their common room though before he pulled his wand and disarmed Malfoy. Harry had him pinned to the wall with his eyes wide before any of the others could stop him.

"Next time you go spewing profanities Malfoy," Harry spat, "remember that my mother is muggle-born. She nearly died to save my life and whenever you insult her I _will_ retaliate."

Harry glared forcefully and cursed Malfoy so boils erupted over every square centimeter of skin. He tossed the blonde's wand to him as he headed to take a shower, ignoring the failed attempts to curse him. The combination of his shield and his personal warding stopped everything Malfoy sent at him.

The confrontation quickly made its way around the Slytherin rumor mill. Harry made it a point to tell the story to Hermione as soon as he was able, as well as Neville and Fred and George. Hermione gave him a disapproving look but hugged him in thanks anyway, and the Weasleys whooped and laughed much as Sirius would. At the reminder of his godfather Harry took the time to write home and tell them about his first week, though the versions sent to different members of his family varied greatly.

The same night as that eventful quidditch practice Harry slipped away from his friends to wander around the less used corridors of the school. He knew that his cursing Malfoy wouldn't be reported. As Malfoy hadn't managed to defend himself, in the eyes of Slytherin, he deserved what he got. They wouldn't have really cared what he did, and most of them would probably agree with him. Harry only knew what 'Mudblood' meant because Sirius had told him to prepare him.

From somewhere far away a low sibilant voice sounded.

"_Kill... want to kill..."_

Harry shuddered and pulled out his wand. He cast several revealing spells but none of them showed anything. He suddenly decided he wasn't best off wandering these corridors alone and headed back to Slytherin. By the time he got back to the common room it was nearly empty, and the few people there just greeted him with nods as Harry made his way up to his room. As usual all his roommates were asleep and he just slipped into bed, wondering where he had heard a voice like that before. It was eerily familiar.

October came with chilly winds and driving rains. Flint was determined to win the cup and had them practicing as often as he could get the pitch. Harry spotted Fred and George spying on them once or twice, but just shook his head and kept practicing. Flint wasn't thinking along the lines of strategy so much as relying on the speed of the brooms and brute strength of most of his players. The Gryffindors wouldn't learn anything useful.

Harry came back from a visit from Hagrid dripping with mud (Hagrid was very proud of the pumpkins he was growing for Halloween and had insisted on showing them off) to an Entrance Hall that was sparkling clean. He grimaced and pulled out his wand, about to perform a few cleaning charms, when the Gryffindor ghost floated down looking depressed.

"Um... you okay Nick?" Harry asked, familiar with the ghost through his parents' and uncles' stories.

"Young Potter," Nearly-Headless Nick sighed. "I had hopes of seeing you in Gryffindor, your parents being who they are." The ghost held what appeared to be a ghostly sheet of parchment and Harry wondered briefly if they used owl ghosts for communication. "I have been denied once more to join the Headless Hunt."

"That's rough Nick," Harry tried to look sympathetic, but was thinking that he knew the exact reason Nick was excluded. He was only _Nearly_-Headless.

"Who has been dripping mud all over my clean floors?" the bellowing of the caretaker, Filch, echoed through the hall. "Potter! Don't move an inch. You're coming with me."

Harry bit his tongue on his retort, _Which one is it? Don't move or go with you? _It would only make things worse. He submitted to Filch dragging him down to his office, though he discreetly cast a cleaning charm on himself on the way. He didn't want to be blamed for mud that dripped all the way from the entrance hall to the office.

"Sit there," Filch fairly shoved Harry into a chair. "I have it here somewhere..." The man shuffled through papers on his desk and Harry caught the edge of one, _Quikspell. _Harry flinched sympathetically, _Ouch,_ he thought, _Filch is a squib._ He knew the man had some huge chip on his shoulder but hadn't thought of that one.

"Pardon me Argus," Nick drifted into the office and winked at Harry.

"Yes?" Filch was distracted by his search. "I know I put it somewhere. Permission to use chains..."

Harry felt his eyes widen involuntarily.

"Peeves is on the second floor," Nick said lazily and Filch's head snapped up. "He's..." There was no need for the ghost to continue as a huge crash sounded directly over their heads.

"Peeves!" Filch started running out of the office. He turned back and glared at Harry, "stay put. I'll get that poltergeist this time!"

"I persuaded Peeves," Nick grinned at Harry. "Filch will forget all about you..."

Filch came back in the room mumbling, "Have to write him up – Headmaster will be convinced now – Get rid of him once and for all – Out of here," that one was directed at Harry, who needed no more. He darted out of Filch's office with Nick following.

Once they were a safe distance away Harry started laughing, "Thanks Nick. If I can ever repay you..."

"Well...," the ghost floated above him.

"Are you sure you were a Gryffindor Nick?" Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Tell me where we're going again?" Hermione questioned Harry that Halloween.

Harry sighed, "We're going to the Death Day Party for Nearly-Headless Nick."

"Why?" Neville looked nervous, unlike the Weasley twins who were ahead of them and chattering loudly.

"I owe Nick a favor," Harry stated plainly.

Fred turned back and shook his head, "I don't know how _you_ ended up owing the _Gryffindor_ ghost a favor..."

"...but we're not objecting to the result!" George finished for his twin.

The five of them finally made it to the site of the party, only to be confronted with more ghosts than any of them had ever seen. There were tables laden with foul smelling molding food, and ghosts floated through them with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Well..."

"...we've never been to a party..."

"...like this one before."

The Weasley twins instantly began mingling and talking to all the ghosts there. The spectres seemed surprised that living people had come to the party, but freely conversed with the twins anyway. Harry wondered if there was any place where the twins couldn't instantly fit in. He had a feeling they would have done well in any of the Houses, though their mischievousness far outweighed their other qualities. They were certainly smart enough for Ravenclaw, even if their grades said otherwise.

"Why are the living here?" a deep rattling voice spoke.

Nick nervously floated to the center of the room, "Welcome all, living and dead." A teenage girl ghost shrieked and floated away quickly.

"Moaning Myrtle," Hermione proclaimed in a whisper.

Nick was a bit shaken by the sudden exit but continued his speech, "Today is the five hundredth anniversary of my untimely demise..."

"Make way for the Headless Hunt!" Nick was interrupted by a large group of ghosts riding ghost horses and holding their heads aloft by one hand. They were instantly the center of attention and Nick floated down to Harry, Neville, and Hermione with a dejected look.

"Put in a good word for me?" Nick pleaded just before the leader caught sight of them.

"The living!" the ghost proclaimed and rode his horse toward them, halting just before their faces. Neville's shaking grew pronounced and Harry put what he hoped was a calming hand on his arm. He countered the chilly effects of the ghosts for his friend, but not for Hermione. She was his friend, but he wasn't about to reveal that little talent to her.

Harry smirked up at the ghost, "You shouldn't be so nasty to Nick. He frightens the Gryffindors quite easily every year." Neville nodded agreement.

"Is that true?" the ghost gave Harry a dubious look. "He doesn't frighten you." The face the ghost made would have been truly frightening, if it was possible for ghosts to actually harm people.

Neville cowered and Hermione shivered and drew back but Harry just grinned and casually flipped aside his fringe. The ghost stared. Even outside the realm of the living Harry was rather well known.

"Neither do you," Harry stated without inflection. He warmed the air around the ghost, who started back and looked decidedly unsettled. Harry called out to the twins, "Oy! Thing One and Thing Two! I want to catch the end of the feast!" The Weasleys bounded towards Harry, irregardless of how many ghosts they passed through. Harry grinned at Nick, "I hope I helped. Have a good party."

Nick saluted Harry and floated back to the center of the room and began addressing the crowd again.

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	15. Chapter 15

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**Chapter Fifteen**

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"Harry what did you do to that ghost?" Hermione asked him shrewdly as they headed away from the party.

"Nothing..."

"_rip...tear...kill..."_

"Did any of you hear that?" Harry stopped in his tracks.

"Hear what mate?" George asked.

"Brilliant party," Fred added with a grin, "but I didn't hear a thing."

Harry turned a pleading look to Neville, who just shook his head. Harry felt slightly guilty and swore to himself he would make up for dragging Neville to the ghost party. He still looked pale and shaken.

"_kill...want to kill..._"

"There it was again!" Harry had a fix on the direction that time and led them away from the hall, following the sound of the voice.

"_I smell blood...I SMELL BLOOD!_"

"Whoa mate," George's voice stopped Harry from his listening to the walls.

He took another step and found the floor was covered in water. He slipped but Fred and George caught him and kept him from falling. The water wasn't what had his friends shocked though. It was the writing on the wall. _THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE!_ And hanging from a bracket by her tail was Filch's cat.

"I don't think we should be here," Fred said nervously.

Neville nodded agreement, but it was too late. The footsteps of hundreds of students and the happy voices of well-fed feasters were headed towards them and the five students froze.

"Enemies of the heir beware!" Malfoy's familiar annoying voice greeted them. "You'll be next Mudbloods!"

It took everything Harry had not to attack Malfoy right there. With all eyes on him, for some reason completely ignoring the Gryffindors with him, it wasn't the best idea to attack another student, regardless of who it was. Of course he was the immediate suspect, seeing as he was Harry Potter _and_ a Slytherin.

Thankfully, Harry could hear the professors making their way through the crowd. He stood tall and stared back at the crowd defiantly. It might not have been his best course of action but he would not be cowed by those accusing stares.

"What's the trouble...," Filch's voice was cut off by his gasp as he saw Mrs. Norris.

"Argus...," Dumbledore walked up with Snape by his side. Snape took in the general atmosphere quickly and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. Harry stared back, giving nothing away.

"It's Potter!" Filch said with heavy emotion. The man was moments from sobbing. "He did it. He killed my cat! He knows..."

"Back to your common rooms now!" Snape ordered, and the majority of the students instantly complied. Harry was inwardly pleased that his friends stayed with him. Harry was determined to prove his innocence, and they were there to support him.

"...I'm a squib," Filch finished in a small voice.

Harry felt instant sympathy for the man, but wouldn't let it show. He might be upset, but that was no excuse for baseless accusations. Harry didn't care if someone was wizard, squib, muggle, or had green hair and orange skin. In fact, he wouldn't really mind meeting an Oompa Loompa, even if he doubted their existence.

Dumbledore examined Mrs. Norris closely, and Harry saw that almost the whole staff was there, "She is not dead Argus."

"Not dead," hope entered Filch's voice.

"No," Dumbledore continued in a soothing tone, "just petrified. Take her to Madam Pomfrey Argus. Professor Sprout has a fine crop of Mandrakes, and Mrs. Norris will be fine once they are ready."

Filch took his cat down gingerly and with a final glare for Harry he headed away towards the infirmary. Flitwick continued examining the wall and Lockhart grinned vacantly while most other eyes turned towards Harry.

"Harry didn't do it sir!" Neville broke the silence, much to the surprise of most of the gathered staff members. Harry had to hide a smile. Every now and then Neville got a burst of Gryffindor courage. It shouldn't surprise anyone, really. He _was_ sorted into the House. "We were with him the whole time. Harry didn't do a thing!"

"Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore's voice was calm and pleasant. Harry felt something like a calming charm pass over him and wondered at the Headmaster. "I do not believe Harry is guilty of anything. You may all go."

They headed towards the stairs, where the Gryffindors would head up and Harry would descend to the dungeons.

"Ah, the Mandragora Draught," they heard Lockhart saying. "I could brew that with my eyes closed. Why the number of times..."

"I believe I am the Potions Master in this school," Snape's snide voice made Harry smirk. His Head of House didn't like Lockhart any more than Harry did.

"Thanks Nev," Harry gave his best friend a quick hug, which was returned a bit more tightly.

Fred ruffled Neville's hair and George grinned, "That's our Neville, Gryffindor to the bone, sticking up for Slytherins, small animals, old ladies, and the destitute."

Neville was blushing furiously and Hermione swatted George's arm before heading up the stairs, then she stopped and looked down at Harry, "Shouldn't you have told him... you know."

There was an uncomfortable silence and Harry shook his head, "Not until I know what it is... and why I can hear it when you can't."

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" Hermione asked them.

Fred and George looked clueless but Harry and Neville exchanged a dark look. Remus had them study the history of Hogwarts when they were ten in preparation for attending the school, and filled in what _Hogwarts, A History_ left out. Harry ran a hand through his hair, "Everyone thinks it's a myth, as no one has found it... ever. It's supposed to be some secret room that Salazar Slytherin built into the castle."

His friends all gave him uneasy looks as they left him and Harry started down the stairs, knowing what they were thinking. Hearing voices was not a good thing, and Harry wouldn't admit to it until he found out exactly what was happening. His thoughts went back to Malfoy, and his gleeful exclamation, and Harry's steps quickened until he was striding along with his robes billowing out behind him.

Harry spoke the password and barely gave the door a chance before he entered the common room and crossed the crowd to where Malfoy was holding court and proclaiming the approaching doom of all 'Mudbloods'. He almost didn't see Harry coming and was completely unprepared for Harry to back him up to a wall and snarl up at him.

"I warned you to watch your mouth Malfoy," Harry's voice was low and dangerous but the entire common room listened. "I'm sure there are several others in this room who agree with your views but I don't hear them fouling the air with disgusting language like yours. You hate muggles so much? Here's a taste of how they duel. That was just one of the many things _my_ godfather taught _me_."

With a quick jab to the solar plexus Malfoy was down on the floor gasping for breath. Harry turned and glared at the rest of the room. He channeled his anger to the already burning fires and almost missed the taller form of his Head of House in the doorway. He did see the approving looks of several of the older students. Harry knew that they hated the way Malfoy lorded over them just because his father was powerful.

"Detention Potter," Snape announced. "Brawling is not permitted. Follow me."

The crowd parted for Harry as he headed towards the exit. He followed Snape to his office and sat where the man gestured him to. A fire flared up in the grate that had been cold until they entered and Snape raised his eyebrow at Harry. Again, the simple facial gesture astonished Harry and he almost forgot why he was there.

"You warned Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked as he calmly took his seat across from Harry.

Harry sighed and dropped his guard. He was tired, and a headache was forming, "He called Hermione Granger a _Mudblood_, sir. I hate that term. It's disgusting and uncalled for. I told him if I ever heard it out of his mouth again I would retaliate, and I did."

"In the future Mr. Potter, restrict yourself to magical means," Snape looked at him pointedly. "You will serve detention with Lockhart as a reminder." He clearly saw that Harry was about to protest. "Save it Potter. You had no reason to be where you were tonight. What led you to that corridor?" Harry kept his lips sealed and his face blank. "Very well. You will not go investigating this with your Gryffindor sidekicks Potter. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry stood and left the room. He paused outside briefly. He understood perfectly, but that didn't mean he would obey. He would just have to make sure he didn't get caught, like a Slytherin was supposed to.

Harry and Malfoy were back to their usual behavior from the earlier part of the previous year. Whenever it was Slytherins only they glared and hexed each other. It was good that Harry was Seeker and Malfoy Chaser. They never could have worked together. Their animosity was driving Flint crazy as it was. Not a single practice had gone by without Malfoy trying to hex Harry and Harry responding in kind. He threatened to take away their wands if it continued, and Merlin help them if they lost their first game.

The rest of the school was giving Harry cautious looks. Fred, George, Neville, and Hermione had managed to pacify most of Gryffindor and a good portion of the other houses, but he still caught the looks. Unfortunately, there was nothing that would curb Colin Creevey's camera happy enthusiasm for Harry. Harry could almost swear that the annoying little git had memorized his schedule. He was always popping up and questioning Harry.

Harry's detention with Lockhart was easily the most boring night of his existence. It was worse than the entire five weeks with the Dursleys combined. Harry was pained to admit that listening to his uncle drone on about drills was far better than listening to Lockhart blather on about himself all night.

The ponce had Harry answering his fan mail of all things! The next morning Harry threw Snape a rather acidic glare, only to receive a smirk in response. Next time he hit Malfoy he would first make sure Snape wasn't anywhere near.

The morning dawned bright and crisp for the first Quidditch game of the year, for Slytherin anyway. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had already played, but the Slytherin team discounted that. It was Gryffindor that was the challenge.

What was exciting for Harry was that his father and Sirius had managed to get the day off and were coming to see the game. He heard Malfoy boasting at breakfast that his father would be in the stands and couldn't stop himself from interrupting.

"Big deal Malfoy," Harry cut in and rolled his eyes. "My father and godfather are coming as well."

Malfoy scowled at him and Harry smiled widely before drinking the last of his juice. He headed out for the changing rooms with Malfoy trailing behind him.

"Kill them," was Flint's prep talk for the game. Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes. It worked for most of the team though. The Beaters had definitely been selected for their muscle rather than their brain. They both grinned viciously and cracked their knuckles in anticipation. Harry was glad he wasn't a Gryffindor. Then again, he had to face Fred and George. Those two were damned lethal with those clubs. "Mount up."

The game began and Slytherin was immediately called on a foul. It was how they played, bending all the rules and outright breaking many of them. Harry was glad he wasn't in the main body of the team. There was just enough Gryffindor in him that he didn't really approve of their tactics, but he didn't have to participate. All he had to do was catch the snitch.

Harry rolled suddenly as a bludger barreled towards him, but it hadn't come from where Fred or George were flying. The bludger turned and headed straight at him again. Harry dodged and flew towards the ground at breakneck speed. The other Seeker followed, and Harry almost laughed. He wasn't feinting, he was checking to see if that bludger would follow. Unfortunately it did and Harry pulled up past Flint, "Call time!"

Flint did, and the team gathered on the ground. Harry noticed that his father was restraining Sirius in the stands. Harry just glared at the beaters, "Will you two do your jobs! That bludger has been on my tail for the whole game!"

"Can't deal with one bludger?" Malfoy taunted and Harry growled at him.

"That's enough out of you two," Filch snapped. He turned to the beaters, "Deal with the bludger. Potter, just catch that snitch as fast as you can."

They rose into the air again and the game resumed. The Slytherin beaters were useless as far as Harry was concerned. Despite their advanced brooms they couldn't maneuver well enough to protect him. Harry just sighed. He would have to take care of things himself. It was probably a first when Fred Weasley intercepted the rogue bludger and sent it careening towards the Slytherin Chasers to protect Harry.

Harry was more than relieved when he finally spotted the snitch. He had no idea what the score was, as he hadn't concentrated on anything but finding the snitch and avoiding that bludger. He doubted that Gryffindor was far enough ahead that Slytherin would lose if Harry caught the snitch, but right then he just didn't care.

He and the Gryffindor Seeker were neck and neck, past the crowds, under the stands, through the chasers, and down towards the ground. The bludger followed them the whole way and nearly got them both several times. They both dodged and ducked, and Harry winced when the Gryffindor girl dodged down, only to have her broom catch on the grass and toss her off. He was so close to the snitch. Harry stretched his arm out, and felt the bludger crash into it with a distinctive snap. His arm was certainly broken.

Harry hugged his broom with his knees and held his broken arm against his chest. He reached out his other hand and grabbed the snitch out of the air, just before he fell the few remaining feet to the ground. Through the haze of pain he focused on the struggling snitch.

"Good," Harry said though no one could hear him. "We've won."

Voices converged on him and there were large gleaming teeth right in front of him.

"Oh no," Harry moaned, "not you."

There was a clicking sound.

"Creevey, I don't want a picture of this!"

"Everyone stand back," Lockhart held out his arms and pushed the crowd back. Through the thicket of legs Harry could see Fred and George wrestling the rogue bludger into the box and it was still putting up a fight.

Despite the pain from his broken arm Harry managed to roll and dodge the spell that Lockhart aimed at his arm. There was no way he was letting that fool cast so much as a cheering charm on him. The spell just missed him and he breathed deeply to avoid the darkness hemming in on him.

"Now just hold still," Lockhart flashed a smile and raised his wand again with a grand flourish.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his father and godfather rushing over. Sirius plucked the wand right out of Lockhart's hand and the professor spun in confusion to find two wands pointed directly at his heart. Rather than fearing the two obviously angry Aurors, Lockhart smiled brilliantly.

"Sirius, take care of the _professor_," James Potter spoke the word with heavy disdain. "I'm taking Harry to Poppy."

"Minnie!" Sirius called out gleefully as James conjured a stretcher and loaded Harry onto it. Harry's father produced a vial from his robes and held it to Harry's lips. The pain began to recede, and Harry wondered vaguely why his father carried pain potions on him.

"Sirius Black, I have been telling you since you were twelve years old, do _not_..." Harry didn't hear the rest of McGonagall's lecture as they were quickly out of range on their way up to the hospital wing, a large group of friends and well-wishers behind them.

"Thanks Dad," Harry said tightly.

James nodded and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, opposite the injury, "That's what I'm here for Harry... and never let anyone other than a healer cast healing spells for you."

Madam Pomfrey only allowed Harry and his father inside the hospital wing. Harry let his father tell the nurse how he got injured and the following drama involved. She muttered under her breath the entire time she was examining him, but Harry was accustomed to that. He did have to stop himself from laughing at the words he did make out, "incompetent... pretty boy... old fool..."

The broken bones in his arm, both the ulna and radius had snapped cleanly, were quickly fixed with a tingly sensation. Madam Pomfrey gave him another pain potion for later and sent him on his way with a quick hug.

Outside the wing Sirius was talking to Blaise, Tracey, Maya, and Neville. Harry's Slytherin friends were doing their best to hide their awe at the casual way Sirius was talking to them and the sudden confidence Neville showed. Neville had grown up with Sirius playing pranks on him and teaching him how to fight.

Harry was probably the only one who noticed the almost imperceptible nod that Sirius gave his father. He didn't have any time to think on it though because Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry and mussed his hair.

"Hey," Harry pried himself away from his godfather and did his best to flatten his hair.

"Alright Harry?" Marcus Flint strode up with the rest of the Slytherin team, though Malfoy looked sullen.

Harry flexed his arm, "Good as new, no thanks to Lockhart."

There was some scattered snickering, from Sirius and James as well as the students.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black," Flint nodded at the Aurors, echoed by the rest of the team, and for once the two men didn't object to the 'Mr.' used before their names. Harry's father greeted them politely, as did Sirius once Harry shot a glare his way. Sirius had finally accepted that Harry was a Slytherin, but he wasn't about to be nice to Slytherins in general any time soon.

The two Aurors left then, saying they had to stop at the Headmaster's office and the Ministry before heading back to Potter Manor. Neville soon began to shift uncomfortably, as the Slytherin quidditch team, with the exception of Harry, all gave him dark looks. Harry glared at his teammates.

"Erm... I should...," Neville stammered. "See you later Harry."

Harry gave Neville a quick smile and then huffed in annoyance at his team. With his friends following Harry brushed by the rest of the Slytherins and headed down towards the common room where he was greeted with cheers. The other members of the team were on his heels and the victory party started in earnest.

It was late that night when everyone in the tower finally got to sleep. Harry woke to his arm throbbing painfully and a flick of his wand told him he had only been asleep a few hours. He stretched and reached for the vial on his bedside table, downing the nasty tasting liquid in one pull.

CRACK!

Harry leapt out of bed and pointed his wand, looking around the room for the source of the sound before he felt a tapping on his leg. He looked down and saw Dobby.

"Dobby!" Harry hissed, trying not to wake his roommates, "what are you doing here?"

Apparently he wasn't quiet enough, "Dobby? Potter how do you know our elf?"

The house elf looked back and forth between the two wizards nervously and twisted his ears as they glared at each other.

"Dobby is a _Malfoy_ elf?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You sleep _naked_?" Malfoy's eyes were wide.

For the first time ever Harry felt a bit self conscious and he grabbed the pants he wore when he did yoga and slipped them on, "Yes I do."

Malfoy's glare faltered a bit and he addressed the elf, "Explain yourself this instant Dobby... or I'll tell Father you're here."

"Bad Dobby, bad Dobby," the house elf began hitting his head against the post of Draco's bed.

"Dobby!" Harry and Malfoy hissed together. Between the two of them they managed to haul the elf onto Malfoy's bed and hold him still.

"Why are you here Dobby?" Malfoy demanded.

Dobby had no choice but to answer, "Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts Master Draco sir. Hogwarts is not safe. Dobby thought his bludger..."

"You enchanted that bludger!" Harry exclaimed.

Malfoy looked furious, "You could have cost us the game!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Love you too." The danger to Harry was secondary apparently, or of no concern at all. "Why are you trying to kill me Dobby?"

Dobby's head snapped back and forth.

"Answer him," Draco ordered. Harry raised an eyebrow and Malfoy shrugged.

"Not to kill, never to kill..."

Realization dawned on Harry, "You tampered with the barrier!"

Dobby looked dismayed.

"Dobby," Malfoy glanced at Harry quickly but Harry couldn't figure out what he wanted to know, "what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry leaned in and paid close attention. Dobby looked frantic, like he was trying to find a way to disobey.

"Father knows something about all of this," Malfoy told Harry. "All he'll tell me is that the Chamber was opened before and a mud... muggle-born was killed."

It was the strangest situation Harry had ever been in. He and Malfoy were actually sitting on Malfoy's bed, interrogating a Malfoy house-elf, and at that moment Malfoy didn't seem quite so bad.

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	16. Chapter 16

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**Chapter Sixteen**

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If any two students confused Severus they were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They began their careers at Hogwarts hexing each other whenever they could, and then had somehow ended up going after the Stone together. There was a brief time of tense peace at the beginning of that year, which vanished when Draco indirectly insulted Lily.

And then, one morning, they were sitting side by side at breakfast and whispering earnestly. It looked like the rest of Slytherin couldn't figure out the change either, but they were just going with it. Potter and Malfoy as friends would be much less stressful for everyone around them than when they were at each other's throats. There would be far fewer stray hexes to dodge.

Rumor made it around the hall quickly that the first year Colin Creevey had been found petrified during the night. Students from all the other Houses looked over to Slytherin cautiously. It was widely known that Potter's temper grew short whenever Creevey was near.

"Severus."

"Hmm?" Severus turned his attention away from his students to the Headmaster.

"Join me in my office for tea," Dumbledore said pleasantly before he rose.

Such a request was more of a command and Severus cursed. Dumbledore only asked Severus to tea when he wanted him to do something he wouldn't like. He spent his morning grading papers, noting that at least Longbottom had a better grasp of the subject than he showed in class. His thoughts on how ingredients would react were actually rather intuitive, which made sense with his Herbology skills. Severus pushed Potter and Malfoy, and speculation on Albus's task for him, to the back of his mind until it was time to meet with the Headmaster.

"No," Severus could feel the migraine forming. "No Albus. The man is a fool, an incompetent, vaporous waste of air. You cannot seriously be considering letting him teach children how to duel."

"Of course not Severus," Albus's eyes twinkled and Severus felt the tea in his stomach grow cold. "That is why you will help him."

Had Severus had less restraint he would have thrown his tea cup at the man who saved his life. It was bad enough that one of the Gryffindors had deliberately caused an explosion in his classroom, and with fireworks no less. They could have killed someone. Now he had to spend his weekend with the most irritating man he had ever met. Black would be pleased to know that his position had been usurped. Severus stood in the great hall in the shadows, nearly invisible to the majority of the brats gathered there to fawn all over Lockhart and his 'most charming smile'. That kind of charm Severus could do without.

"Let me introduce my assistant Professor Snape!" Lockhart announced with a flourish of his hand.

Severus ignored the rest of the man's blathering as he stepped onto the dueling platform. He saw that the Slytherins there all looked eager, and even some of the students outside of his House looked glad to see him. He had to reassess his teaching methods, or perhaps they all just hoped he would rid them of Gilderoy Lockhart.

He was tempted to roll his eyes as he just barely tilted his head. Lockhart's flamboyant bow was as ridiculous as his purple robes. After all Severus's years of service this was what he was reduced to, teaching imbecilic children with no concern for their own welfare and dueling a wizard who made drooling idiots look intelligent.

Severus raised his wand over his head, might as well make this dramatic, and cried out, "_Expelliarmus!_" Lockhart's wand flew towards him as the pompous professor was tossed backwards. Nearly every boy in the crowd had an approving look, while almost all the girls showed signs of concern for Lockhart, even some of his Slytherins. It was disgusting.

He smirked in satisfaction as Lockhart had the students divide into pairs to practice disarming. It was a monumentally stupid move. He placed Slytherins with Gryffindors and the great hall was soon almost one enormous brawl. If they hadn't been students using mostly harmless spells Severus would have been reminded of the war. After all, here were many of the children of those who had fought all those years ago, on both sides.

"Perhaps you should teach them first to block unfriendly spells," Severus said harshly.

Lockhart was only momentarily shaken, and instantly brought Potter up onto the stage. The man was most likely certifiable. A demonstration of that sort should be made with older students, who most likely were already learning shields and blocks. When he motioned to Weasley Severus had to step in, despite the glint in Potter's eyes.

"Might I suggest someone else," Severus commented. "Weasley's wand wreaks havoc with the simplest of spells. Perhaps another from my House, Malfoy."

Severus gave his godson a pointed look and the Malfoy heir clambered onto the platform. He quirked an eyebrow at Potter, who smirked back. Only the Slytherins in the room knew that these two were already well versed at dueling with each other, though Longbottom most likely knew how well Potter could block curses. They did have the same teachers.

Lockhart was demonstrating a block that Severus was sure did not exist. By the look of utter disdain on Potter's face he had no intention of following Lockhart's directions. Malfoy's eyes were laughing as he and Potter bowed. Malfoy shot off a stinging hex, fairly mild considering the knowledge of curses he had already shown. Potter used one of the first blocks taught, and a bit clumsily. They were slow, and their aim was off a bit. Severus could not be more proud of the show they were putting on.

Then Malfoy took it up a notch. He had a tendency to show off, and this was no exception. _Serpensortia!_ Potter blinked and stepped back as a snake landed between the boys.

"Don't worry Potter," Severus stepped onto the platform with them, "I'll get rid of it." Severus waved his wand, but Lockhart shot of a spell first from the side of the platform. The snake flew up in the air and landed close to a group of students. Its crown flared and the snake hissed. Severus raised his wand again, but he caught sight of Potter out of the corner of his eye.

The boy was looking at the snake intently and walking towards it slowly. He held out one hand, opened his mouth, and hissed.

A visible shock ran through the whole room. Severus himself could hardly breathe. The only other Parselmouth in the past several centuries was none other than the Dark Lord. It did not bode well for Potter, especially in light of the recent incidents in the school, that he exhibited that same rare talent.

The snake bared its fangs at one frozen second year boy, a Hufflepuff, and Potter hissed again, his tone insistent. The snake back off and coiled, and Severus snapped back to reality and banished it. Potter looked up at him and blinked as though he was coming out of a trance, and then ran, Longbottom following.

"Everyone back to your common rooms," Severus ordered sharply, "now!"

The students complied and left the hall quickly, most likely eager to return to their common rooms and spread the latest gossip about The-Boy-Who-Lived. It would be in the _Daily Prophet_ within days no doubt. Severus hoped the Potters were prepared to do damage control, for their son's sake. The only way it could be worse was for Potter's elemental abilities to get out, as the Ministry would not look favorably on that either.

"Severus," Severus looked down and saw that his godson had stayed behind. The great hall was empty with the exception of the two of them.

"Yes Draco," Severus responded quietly.

"It's not Potter," Draco looked slightly disturbed. "I think..." Severus urged him silently to continue. "I think my father has something to do with all this."

Severus closed his eyes for a moment and swore softly. If Lucius was playing at something Severus could only interfere passively. Even now he could not blow his cover, and he had no idea if his godson would follow Lucius blindly or see how horrible the actions of the Death Eaters were.

"Dobby?" Severus questioned.

Draco nodded, "Potter knows. Dobby was here after the quidditch game."

And Lucius was in the stands that day, which meant Dobby was there, and one of them must have done something to the bludger. Severus was betting on Dobby, as house elf magic was nearly impossible to trace and the staff hadn't been able to learn a thing from the bludger. James Potter had ripped into Albus like Severus had never seen, and actually earned some respect as a result from the Slytherin Head of House.

HARRY ran through the halls blindly, cursing himself harshly the whole way. After all he had done to control himself, with all the curses and spells he knew, why couldn't he have thought of something else to do? When he heard the snake speaking, something in him had felt the need to respond, and he had acted completely without thought of the consequences. And now the whole school knew, and soon the whole wizarding world would know.

He changed his course and headed towards the owlery. He was at least going to do something right today. Harry heard the footsteps behind him but he ignored them. He sent a little wind behind him to slow down whoever was following.

There was parchment and a few quills that were stored in the owlery for those students who forgot to bring their letters with them. Harry grabbed some and wrote a quick note.

_Brie,_

_The shit hit the fan. I screwed up. Tell Mum and Dad about that conversation in the garden._

_Love you,_

_Harry_

"Hedwig!" Harry's owl flew down to his shoulder and he tied the note to her leg. "Take this to Brie as quickly as you can."

He stood silent and still and watched as the snowy owl hooted and flew off towards Potter Manor. He was watching the gathering storm clouds and the distant lightning, still in a state of near panic, when his owl was too far away for the sharpest eyes to pick her out. The lightning grew closer quickly and a part of Harry was in the clouds, with the wind and the rain and the bolts of bright energy.

"Harry!" Neville was panting in the doorway.

Harry turned and searched his friend's eyes for the accusation, the distrust and disgust that he expected to see, and found only hurt. He blinked, and his eyes felt heavy. He would not cry. He had not cried for years, except in the night, alone in the dark when he woke from the worst of his nightmares and gripped his wand in fear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Neville's eyes were round and bright.

Harry looked at his friend closely. The Gryffindor was already taller than him, and he was starting to lose the baby fat that made him look soft. Neville took another step towards him and Harry hung his head.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Harry had to get himself under control. He was well aware that lightning rods had been installed all over the castle because of him, but that was no excuse to let his power run free. There were times when he just let loose, and he felt like the storms would control him, rather than the other way around.

"Sorry Nev," Harry said quietly. "I was afraid."

Arms wrapped around him for a tight hug and Harry remained stiff and unyielding. Neville released him. Harry looked up and saw that Neville had drawn his dagger and laid it on his palm, blade point facing Harry. Harry took his out and placed his hand beside Neville's, laying the daggers hilt to point.

Neville's other hand gripped his shoulder, "Brother."

"Brother," Harry repeated the same action. He picked up the dagger with the Longbottom crest, "May this dagger strike me down if I ever prove false to you."

Neville echoed his words and picked up his dagger with the Potter crest. Each of them nicked their palms on previous scars and pressed them together. They were the same words they had used almost five years past, when they first exchanged blades.

His dagger safely away and his hand healed, Harry threw his arms around Neville and finally accepted the comfort offered. It was times like that, when Harry was overwhelmed, that Neville was the stronger of the two. Harry knew that no one would believe him, not even Neville's parents, if he told them, but it did not matter so long as he and Neville knew.

HEDWIG arrived at Potter Manor while Brie was reading _Hogwarts, A History_. She was so excited to be finally joining her brother at school that she submitted without complaint to reading the thick, dry volume. She didn't know how Harry could read the way he did, as though every book that existed was as interesting as the movies they all watched together on Saturdays.

"Hi Hedwig," Brie stroked the white feathers and pulled out a bag of owl treats from her desk. She fed a handful to her brother's bird and read the parchment. Her heart dropped and she cursed her brother for laying the responsibility on her.

"What's that?" Remus asked from the doorway.

Brie turned and smiled brilliantly. Her godfather smiled back, falling victim as always to that smile, "Letter from Harry."

She flipped the parchment over and scratched out a response.

_Harry,_

_I'll do it. You owe me big time._

_Your adorable sister,_

_Brie_

"Take this back to Harry Hedwig," Brie gave the bird a final stroke, and decided to enlist the aid of her godfather. Merlin knew she would need an ally at dinner that night, "So Remus, I was just thinking about when Dad and Siri found out about you in school."

Remus was easily the most intelligent man she had ever met and he instantly figured out that she was up to something, "What was in that letter Brie?"

"Well...," Brie began to tell her godfather the story of how she and Harry had been playing in the garden when he was five and she was three.

At that age Harry already knew all about Voldemort, and had quickly grasped the implications of his being able to talk to snakes, and Brie not understanding what he or the snake said. She had agreed automatically to keep his secret, already looking up to her big brother with a sort of worship and awe.

Remus looked stunned, and he sat down and quickly cast a silencing spell on the room. Brie should have thought of that, she scolded herself.

"He's a Parselmouth," Remus said with a touch of fear in his voice. Brie nodded. "Merlin help us."

Brie tried to figure out exactly why he was upset. Of all people she expected Remus to immediately understand, being what he was. She spoke softly and left her chair to sit in his lap, "Remy?"

She was almost too old for this she knew, but she felt safe and happy when Remus automatically wrapped his arms around her, "How much do you know about that night Brianna?"

He only used her full name when they were being very serious, "I know what happened to Mum and Dad, and that Harry did something to Voldemort, and now his spirit is somewhere wandering and waiting."

"When Voldemort cast the curse at Harry there was a connection made," Remus explained to her as though he was telling her why magic had to be channeled through a wand, or how to block a curse. "We've believed for years that in those few seconds before the curse rebounded that something passed from Voldemort to Harry and possibly from Harry to Voldemort, but we never had any proof. This, Brie, is the first evidence to support that theory. Harry could not possibly have been born a Parselmouth. It is a hereditary gift in the Slytherin line."

"Oh," Brie's head felt stuffed full with thoughts that she did not want, thoughts that were far too adult for a ten year old girl.

She wondered if this was how Harry felt all the time, with everything her big brother knew. Brie was aware that Remus and her parents and Sirius and Neville's parents had taught the two older boys far more than she and Alex and Ian were learning, but never knew why. Now she had a guess. They expected Harry would have to fight Voldemort again someday, and that Neville would be by his side.

"Yes, oh," Remus kissed her forehead and gently pushed her off his lap before standing and looking down at her with his face solemn. "You may tell Alex and Ian but you must impress on them the seriousness of this. The three of you will eat up here tonight. I will instruct the elves as such. You're off the hook Brie. I'll tell your parents and Sirius about this."

She hugged her godfather tightly, "Thank you Moony."

He hugged her back and left the room, canceling his spell and closing her door behind him. He went downstairs and found Lily making faces at the twins and trying to encourage them to stand. Remus smiled at the sight. He could remember the day that each of the Potter children took their first step, as if they were his own children.

With his curse, Remus would never have children, and Lily and James indulged him, encouraged him even to look on theirs as his. After all, the Potters and Sirius were his pack.

Ryan and Rowan were the only Potters to inherit their mother's hair, bright auburn and tame. They already communicated with each other in a way that no one else understood, but it would be a few months still until they said their first words.

"Lily," Remus smiled when she turned her head and smiled at him. The twins babbled and smiled up at him as well. They had hazel eyes like their father and would be identical except for the gender difference, and in more than just looks. It was said that magical twins shared a soul.

"You look like something's bothering you Remus," Lily got up from the floor and sat on the couch, patting the seat beside her.

Remus shook his head, "I have to head down to the kitchens before James and Sirius get home. Dinner is adults only tonight. We have something to talk about."

Lily glanced at the twins quickly and stood up, her face instantly worried, "What Remus? Don't leave it like that."

He smoothed back her hair and hugged her, "It's nothing to fret about Lil, nothing we can do much about. Brie just gave me proof for one of our theories, and we're going to have to plan some damage control measures. I have a feeling Siri will be visiting the _Prophet_ tonight."

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Please Review!

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	17. Chapter 17

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**Chapter Seventeen**

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It wasn't in the _Daily Prophet_. Harry had no idea how his family had done it, but they had kept the news from breaking. Students probably sent owls home, but it would be rumor, nothing more, not substantiated in print. Sirius must have had something to do with it. Harry had seen his godfather trying to get his way, and when he flirted like crazy he got nearly anything, or anyone he wanted.

For days he had held his breath, waiting for the stories, then the letters to the editor (and Howlers) calling for his expulsion, but it never happened. That didn't make life at Hogwarts any easier. Everywhere Harry went there were whispers and dark looks. Students jumped out of his path and glared at his back.

Even in Slytherin there were looks of mistrust. More of his housemates thought it was fabulous though, and they were constantly asking him to speak the snake language. Luckily for Harry he could only speak with when confronted with snakes, which were not allowed as pets, and the attention within Slytherin died down.

He had worried about the reactions of his Gryffindor friends, but they were better than the Slytherins. Hermione scoffed at the rumors that Harry was evil incarnate and the Weasley twins went around proclaiming, "Make way for the heir of Slytherin... seriously dark wizard coming through."

Their lighthearted reactions were both touching and infuriating. It encouraged the students who were spreading rumors about him. Harry was sick of people telling him they were purebloods, or scurrying away from him. His Slytherin friends were even being wary, as if they didn't know if they could trust him. He had kept secrets from them, but he didn't know everything about them either.

Harry stalked out of the library with a scowl on his face. He had overheard speculation that Voldemort had tried to kill him because he knew Harry was destined to be a dark lord, and no dark lord wanted competition. It was ridiculous... only Harry didn't know why Voldemort had come after him. His parents knew, but they never told him.

Halfway down the corridor, caught in his musings, Harry tripped over something. When he turned to look back he felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

There lay Hufflepuff Justin Flinch-Fletchly, who had told Harry earlier that year how he had been accepted to Eton, his face frozen in an expression of shock. He was the same boy that the snake had almost attacked. Floating above him was Nearly-Headless Nick, his head half off and frozen in an expression identical to the one that Justin wore.

The next string of events happened so quickly. Harry backed away in horror until he hit a wall, and all the torches in the corridor flared to life. He heard Peeves coming and the poltergeist caught sight of the petrified bodies, "ATTACK, ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAAAACK!"

Pounding footsteps rushed up to him, McGonagall at the forefront. A Hufflepuff who Harry thought was named Ernie was at the tail end of students but pushed to the front and pointed at Harry, "Caught in the act!"

"That is enough Mr. MacMillan," McGonagall proclaimed stiffly. She directed Professors Flitwick and Sprout to take Justin to Madam Pomfrey and handed Ernie a conjured fan and instructed him to float Nick to the hospital wing. She then ordered the other students to disperse.

"Professor, I..." Harry swallowed deeply, fighting for control. He had been on edge almost all year, and the only rumor about him that was true was that the unusual storms were Harry's fault.

"This is out of my control Potter. Follow me."

She led him through the school to the statue of a gargoyle, and Harry knew that it was Dumbledore's office. His godfather had described the gargoyle perfectly.

McGonagall spoke the password, 'Sherbet Lemon,' and the gargoyle sprang aside as the wall behind it split. They rode up the stairs together and the door at the top opened after she knocked.

McGonagall left him there alone to wait for the Headmaster, and Harry looked around at all the silver instruments, whirring and ticking. It was a room that Remus must hate. There was no silver at all in Potter Manor. Their utensils were made of platinum, and any jewelry was platinum or gold. Any silver that the Potters owned was in the very back of one of their Gringotts vaults where the werewolf would never come into contact with it.

There was a sickly looking bird on a perch next to the desk and Harry approached it cautiously. He had never seen a bird like it, and couldn't match the bird to any in the books from the Manor. When he stepped closer the bird burst into flame.

Harry felt sick, dirty, and his mind instantly went back to Quirrell. He heard footsteps and Dumbledore entered the office from a door Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Sir – I didn't – your bird," Harry felt his heart racing. He knew he had to calm down, but it was all too much.

"I know Harry," Dumbledore said softly and bent down to the ashes. He came up holding a baby bird. "Fawkes has been looking awful for weeks. I told him to get on with it."

Harry was in awe, all tension gone. He felt the pressure in the air ebb away. He never thought he would see the one animal that he felt some kinship to, as rare as they were, "Fawkes is a phoenix."

"Yes Harry," Dumbledore brought the baby bird over him and Harry touched it reverently with just the tips of two fingers.

The door to the office burst open, "It wasn't 'Arry Professor. I'd swear it on me father's grave."

"Hagrid, Hagrid," Dumbledore motioned for the gamekeeper to calm down. "I do not believe Harry guilty of anything."

"Ah, um, I'll be just outside then," Hagrid held up the group of dead roosters he was holding by their necks and left the office.

"You don't sir?" Harry looked at the Headmaster hopefully.

"No Harry, but I still want to talk to you," Dumbledore looked at him fondly and Harry sat down, relieved and relaxed for the first time in weeks. "Is there anything you want to tell me about Harry?"

Harry thought about Dobby, about his fights with Malfoy and their odd, tense, sort-of truce. He remembered the disembodied voice and then saw the scowl on his father's face when they talked about how Dumbledore had left Harry with the Dursleys. Harry shook his head, "No sir."

Harry had never seen anything like it. The recent petrifications had students signing up eagerly to go home for the holidays. The only second years staying were Harry himself, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle for some reason, and a handful of Gryffindors – Weasel, Hermione, and Finnigan. There were maybe ten other students staying overall. Harry was looking forward to the quiet in the castle.

Once all the students were gone Harry breathed freely. He had decided to stay sometime after he wrote his letter to Brie. He got a letter from home saying that no one was upset with him, or thought any less of him, but he still didn't want to face them. In that sense Harry was obviously not a Gryffindor.

All the Weasleys were still in the castle, and the twins made a point of sitting next to him at meals and joking loudly about the Chamber of Secrets. They seemed completely oblivious about the effect it was having on their sister, who Harry hadn't even thought about until then. She was jumpy and at one point she gasped loudly and ran from the table. Percy the Prefect was also acting strange. He excused her actions and hurried away as well.

"Weasels," Malfoy scoffed on their way back to the common room.

Harry ignored him and just thought over the Weasleys' behavior. Apart from the twins, all the redheads were acting much differently than they had been when Harry saw them that summer. Weasel was whispering constantly with Hermione and Finnigan, and giving Harry and Malfoy dirty looks. Percy was being secretive, and Ginny was high-strung. It just didn't add up.

Christmas was almost like any other day. There seemed to be a heavy cloud hanging over the occupants of the castle, though there were many more clouds than usual anyway. Harry was focusing all his nervous energy outside of the castle at the sky. It was either that or start a few fires, or maybe a flash flood in one of the corridors. He had managed to cause the last Herbology classes of the semester to be cancelled, though the snow storm might have been natural.

It was after the Christmas feast that Harry and Malfoy managed to lose track of Goyle and Crabbe. They had gone to their common room, where they were the only Slytherins, and sat in an uncomfortable silence. Malfoy had convinced Harry that he did not want anyone in the school killed by whatever the monster was in the Chamber, but they were still decidedly not friends.

"Where did your bodyguards go?" Harry asked to break the heavy silence.

Malfoy sneered, "They're not bodyguards, they're..."

"Lackeys? Sycophants? Toadies?" Harry smirked, knowing he was aggravating the blond. They no longer hexed each other at the least provocation, but it was still enjoyable to get under Malfoy's skin.

"Look I don't know okay?" Malfoy was a little more irritated than Harry had intended. "They've just always been there, ever since I can remember."

"And they've always taken your orders," Harry said quietly. Malfoy nodded. "Why?"

"Why what?" Malfoy snapped.

"Why do you order them around? Why do they obey you?" Harry questioned.

Malfoy stood, flustered, "Because that's the way things are. I bet they just got lost again."

The other boy left the common room in a huff and Harry went up to their room to write his thank you notes for his Christmas presents. The letter from home had sounded disappointed that Harry chose to stay at Hogwarts, but he just wasn't ready to answer all the questions they would have. When Harry heard noise from the common room he went back down and the look Malfoy shot him was full of mischief.

"I've told you before I don't know," Malfoy was saying to Crabbe and Goyle, who were shifting on the couch uncomfortably. "I heard before that last time the Chamber was opened a Mudblood died. I hope this time it's Granger."

Malfoy turned to the side and winked at Harry. Crabbe was restraining Goyle from charging Malfoy and Harry saw then that it wasn't the real Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was playing with the imitators. Harry ran through the ways to impersonate someone, and all of them were far too advanced for most students in the school _and _illegal. Malfoy picked up a Christmas present he hadn't opened yet and turned back to the fake Crabbe and Goyle.

"This belong to either of you?" He held up the package and they shook their heads. Both of them knew very well it belonged to Malfoy, the real versions of them anyway.

It was then that Harry saw Goyle's hair flash red for an instant. He retreated up the stairs and then stormed down them and made straight for the couch. He grabbed each of their robes and hauled them towards the common room exit, "I want a word with you two. Malfoy I'm borrowing your goons."

"Enjoy," Malfoy waved his hand and smirked at their retreat.

Once they were in the corridor Harry shoved them against a wall and pointed his wand at them, "Alright, I expect I'll find out who you are when the Polyjuice wears off. Now what the hell are you up to?"

"He knows something!" Fake Goyle exclaimed, his voice changing to a higher pitch as he spoke.

Two Gryffindors began to emerge from under the guise of Crabbe and Goyle, "Malfoy doesn't know shit about who's doing this and if you wanted to know that all you had to do was ask me, or have your brothers do it Weasel."

"Yeah, well, it's probably you, you slimy snake," Weasel snarled, not even bothering to take out his own wand.

Harry snorted, "Dark does not mean evil, although most Gryffs don't learn that until years after they graduate. The only person in this school I've ever attacked is Malfoy for being a prat, though you're getting close to being number two. What do you know about all this?"

Finnigan, who hadn't spoken before, chose that moment to join the conversation, "What makes you think we'd tell you?"

Harry smirked and they both cowered slightly, "If you really think I'm behind the attacks then you surely assume I could _make_ you tell me."

Both pairs of eyes widened dramatically and they started speaking rapidly, telling him about some book they found that told them what happened the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

"Hold it," Harry waved his hand to cut them off, "you think _Hagrid_ killed someone while he was a student? Just because some enchanted book, which by the way you don't know is trustworthy, told you? Albus Dumbledore is not stupid. He would not trust someone who was guilty of murder."

"But it was an accident," Weasel said eagerly, probably thinking he was defending Hagrid. "He didn't think his spider would hurt anyone!"

Harry furrowed his brow. That didn't make sense. Spiders didn't petrify people, they poisoned them. "I don't want to hear any more. Just tell me who wrote the diary."

"His name was Tom right?" Weasel turned to Finnigan.

The Irish boy nodded, "Tom Riddle. We checked. He has a Special Services to the School Award, and was Head Boy."

Tom Riddle. Where had Harry heard that name before? He knew it was familiar.

"Just get the hell out of here before I tell Professor Snape what you've been up to," the Gryffindors looked mortally afraid again, "and stay away from my common room! Oh yeah, and where did you put the two dopes?"

"Broom closet," Weasel squeaked.

"By the great hall," Finnigan elaborated and they both ran.

Harry changed the password to the common room and would have to make sure he told Snape at dinner. He walked in and saw Malfoy chuckling.

"So who was it?" Malfoy looked very amused.

"Weasel and Finnigan," Harry frowned, "but I'd bet you the whole Potter fortune that Granger brewed the Polyjuice. They couldn't do it any more than I could." Malfoy just snickered. "Let's go rescue your shadows." Harry started out the common room and told Malfoy the new password. "By the way, does the name Tom Riddle mean anything to you?"

Malfoy shook his head, "Nope, never heard of him."

"I could swear I know who he is," Harry was frustrated. The answer was just out of reach.

"Whoever he is, he isn't pureblood," Malfoy said as if that answered everything.

Harry just shook his head and led the way up towards the great hall again. There was pounding coming from a broom closet and they opened it to find Crabbe and Goyle in their underwear. It was just too much and Harry and Malfoy started laughing.

"How did they get you?" Malfoy asked.

"Well," Goyle scratched his head. "There were these cupcakes..."

The students returned from holiday and were no less suspicious of Harry than they had been before they left. Any good will that had existed for him outside of Slytherin, with the exception of his few Gryffindor friends, completely evaporated. He took to spending more time in his common room, where at least people didn't look at him like the next dark lord.

There was even an almost silent support for him. Harry had caught the seventh year Slytherin prefects glaring at Ernie MacMillan when he was proclaiming loudly that he had told everyone it was Harry Potter responsible for the attacks _before_ they all found out he was an evil dark Parselmouth. MacMillan had jumped and run away when he saw the two older Slytherins.

Harry heard just after classes started that Hermione was in the hospital wing, and guessed it was from the potion gone wrong. When he went up to visit her after breakfast one morning Poppy said Hermione did not want anyone to see her. Harry then suggested a privacy screen so he could talk to her. Poppy just shook her head and smiled at Harry. She went to check with Hermione and then led him down to sit by her.

"Hi Harry," Hermione sounded tearful.

Harry sighed, "Do you know how many things could have gone wrong with that stunt you three pulled?"

There was just a sniff, probably as the result of whatever did go wrong.

"Look," said Harry, "just don't listen to a word those two tell you. Malfoy knew it wasn't Crabbe and Goyle and he was playing with their heads. I can assure you he doesn't want to see you die. He's a prick, but not a murderous prick."

Hermione sniffed again, "Thank you Harry."

"Oh yeah," Harry said as he stood up, "don't believe everything you find in books, especially enchanted ones. Most spells to do something like that to a book are very dark. Also, what kind of spider do you know that can petrify someone?"

"None," Hermione answered, "I already looked."

"At least one of you has a brain," Harry snorted. "I'm disappointed Hermione. All you had to do was ask me if Malfoy knew something. I _do_ share a bedroom with him. I thought we were friends."

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione's apology was almost a whisper. "I suggested it but they said they couldn't trust what you said."

Harry started to leave. "I hope you get better soon."

Harry left the hospital wing with a wave to Poppy in her office. He tried to clear his mind of all the thoughts swimming around in it as he headed back towards his common room. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, and when a spell fizzled against his wards he turned to see two sixth years right behind him. Before he could do a thing one of them hit him on the head and he blacked out.

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	18. Chapter 18

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**Chapter Eighteen**

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Neville was getting right sick of listening to Ron Weasley. He had been friends with the redhead, but his patience was wearing thin. He was telling everyone who would listen in the common room that Potter had threatened him and Seamus over break, and Seamus was backing up his every word.

Neville suspected they were actually telling the truth, but probably exaggerated, and they had certainly done something to warrant the threat. Harry didn't get mad enough to do something like that easily.

He could have also been toying with them. Harry was very much a Slytherin after all. If he caught Ron and Seamus breaking the rules, which was likely, he would have loved having them off-balance, especially after what happened at the beginning of the year. Even Neville was still a little irritated with Ron for that.

The sandy haired boy sighed and moved to another spot in the common room. He would get the draft from the portrait hole, but at least he would be further away from Ron accusing his sworn brother of all sorts of ridiculous things. If this went on much longer Neville would have to do something about it.

There was knocking at the portrait, and that was odd in and of itself. No one ever knocked. Neville opened it and was surprised to see every second year Slytherin standing there, with the glaring exception of Harry.

"Is Potter in there Longbottom?" Malfoy asked snidely.

Neville felt a little shaky, as he always did when Malfoy talked to him. The blond Slytherin was always so sharp and cruel, and it just made Neville nervous. He shook his head, "No. I haven't seen him today, and I don't think he would come in here now even if you paid him."

The Slytherins all frowned and exchanged looks. Tracey Davis, who sometimes studied in the library with Neville, Hermione, and Harry, spoke for the group then, "We haven't seen him since he went to visit Granger this morning. He missed quidditch practice and we can't find him."

That was not at all like Harry. Neville felt his stomach sink a little. What if Harry was lying petrified somewhere? He told the Slytherins to wait a minute and closed the portrait. He looked around the common room franticly and spied Fred and George in the corner whispering with their friend Lee Jordan.

Neville normally didn't approach them. They were more Harry's friends than his and he was always worried they would try to play a prank on him. He got enough of that from Sirius. But he needed them just then.

He leaned into their group, "I need to see that parchment that Padfoot, Prongs and Moony wrote."

Fred and George looked at him and, seeing his nervous expression, just nodded and pulled him up to their room. Fred opened his trunk while Neville tried to find a spot in the room that wasn't messy. His room was nothing like this disaster zone.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," George tapped the map with his wand.

"Where's Harry?" Neville asked.

The twins both scanned the map with Neville and Fred pointed, "There! But what's he doing in a closet?"

Neville couldn't stop the almost whimper that escaped him. Not bothering to thank the twins he ran out of their room and down the stairs. He tore across the common room and out the portrait, darting past the Slytherins without a word.

The longer Harry was in the closet the worse it would be, because Harry was almost violently claustrophobic.

He had never asked why, and Harry never told him, but Harry hated small places, and couldn't stand the dark. Whenever Harry slept at Longbottom Hall Neville's dad would charm a small light for them. Harry's ceiling in his bedroom at the Manor had stars enchanted on it, something like the great hall, and Neville assumed that Harry had charmed his canopy in the Slytherin dorms the same way.

Neville just ran as fast as he could for the closet. He heard the Slytherins calling after him, and following him, but didn't bother answering. He skidded to a halt at the door that Fred had pointed to on the map, and there was no noise inside. Neville tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He then noticed a wand on the floor... Harry's. He pocketed it quickly.

"Harry?" Neville asked through the door, "Can you hear me?"

Panting Slytherins caught up with him then.

"What the hell is going on Longbottom?" Malfoy snapped.

For the first time Neville didn't shake from Malfoy's tone, "Harry's in trouble. He's locked in here."

Malfoy blinked at him and a confused look flashed on his face for an instant, then he turned, "Crabbe, Goyle, open it."

The two large Slytherins pulled at the door but it wouldn't shove. Malfoy shoved them aside and started trying unlocking charms, none of which worked. Fred and George showed up, Fred holding the map. It was wiped clear.

"He's locked in?" George asked. Neville nodded and they started helping Malfoy, but nothing seemed to work.

Neville was getting more frantic with each passing moment. He finally snapped at them all, "Enough! You can't open it! Fred, George, get the Headmaster. One of you get Snape!"

The Slytherins all gaped at him, and Neville pointed his wand at them, glaring as hard as he could, "The same people who taught Harry taught me."

Fred and George were already gone and two of the Slytherins headed towards the dungeons.

"Pansy you owe me two Galleons," one of the girls, Millicent Bullstrode, Neville thought it was, said.

"What?" Pansy Parkinson glared at the girl.

"Longbottom does belong in Gryffindor," Bulstrode smirked at the blond girl. "No Hufflepuff would even think of taking on this many Slytherins."

Neville flushed and tucked his wand back away. He started tapping on the door and talking to Harry as if he could hear him, ignoring the Slytherins who were arguing about which House he belonged in. It felt like an eternity passed before footsteps came closer. Neville looked up and felt relief. He ran over to the man coming towards them with the Headmaster and the twins.

"Moony!" Neville hugged him tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I had some things to discuss with the Headmaster," Remus answered, hugging Neville just as hard. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Neville replied. "Harry's been missing most of the day and his Housemates came to see if I knew where he was. Fred and George helped me figure he out he was stuck in this closet. None of us can open it. I found his wand on the floor."

Remus took the wand and cast a spell on it. It glowed brightly, "A _lumos_."

Dumbledore was looking over the door meanwhile and had cast a few spells at it, the Slytherins all paying very close attention. Swift footsteps heralded the arrival of Snape and the other Slytherins.

"What's this about Potter getting himself locked in a closet?" Snape said in an annoyed tone.

"Harry would not willingly enter any closet," Remus said softly.

Snape noticed him then and snarled at the other man. He glared down at Neville, but any remarks were interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Remus," said Dumbledore, "perhaps you should join me."

Dumbledore motioned for the students to step back and cast a spell at the door which made it fling open. Remus was instantly down on his knees and Neville peered over his shoulder to see Harry pressing himself back into the furthest corner with his arms hiding his face. Neville thought he could see a bruise on one temple.

"Harry," Remus's voice was calming and smooth, "it's Moony. I won't hurt you."

Harry only whimpered and his feet scurried against the floor as if trying to push further away. Remus sighed and took out his wand, "I'm sorry Harry. _Stupefy!_" Remus reached in and picked up Harry in his arms as if he weighed no more than a feather. Of course, Neville had seen Remus do the same with a struggling Sirius. "I'm taking him to Poppy."

Remus turned and walked away without a word. The Slytherins all had blank looks on their faces that Neville recognized from whenever Harry didn't want someone to know what he was feeling. Fred and George were exchanging stunned looks, for once not joking at all. The inside of the door was scorched and dripping water and Neville knew that meant Harry had lost control.

"I want to hear everything each one of you knows about this," Snape snapped and Neville jumped. He had forgotten the man was there.

"I'll leave you to it then Severus," Dumbledore left them, his face like a storm cloud, and headed in the other direction than Remus had gone.

The Slytherins looked like they were trying to decide which one of them would talk but Neville beat them to it. He told Snape everything that he knew and then finished, "May I go to the Hospital Wing sir? I want to make sure Harry's okay."

"How did Weasley and Weasley find Potter?" Snape gave all three Gryffindors a penetrating look.

"Locator spell sir," Fred lied smoothly.

George nodded, "Neville ran out before we could tell him what it was."

"Very well," Snape glanced at them as though he did not believe what they said, but couldn't prove his doubts, "you three may go."

Fred and George steered Neville away towards the Hospital Wing, and Fred clamped a hand over his mouth when he started to talk.

"Not yet," Fred hissed.

George whispered on his other side, "Snape's got wicked hearing."

Neville nodded and waited until they were just outside the hospital wing, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Fred grinned.

George echoed his brother's grin, "Just let us know how Harry is."

Neville promised and walked in. Fred and George went back towards the common room. Neville could hear whimpering coming from the end of the ward, the opposite end from where Colin and Justin were, and headed that way. Passing Hermione, he saw she was sleeping, probably potion induced. He heard Remus and Poppy talking in hushed voices.

"There's nothing we can do until he snaps out of it Remus," Poppy said tightly. "How long was he in there?"

"Probably since he left here," Remus sighed and brushed his hair back.

Poppy gasped, "That was hours ago!"

"Will Harry be okay?" Neville asked quietly, but knowing Remus would hear him. Remus could always hear them if they were in the same room.

Remus turned, not at all surprised to see him, "Yes Neville. Why don't you stay and talk to him quietly. It might help."

Neville nodded and sat down next to his friend. Harry was curled up on the hospital bed with his eyes squeezed shut, his head tucked in. Neville sat down in the chair next to the bed and began talking. He started telling Harry how annoyed he was with Ron, but then ran out of things to say and started telling the fairy tales that Lily used to tell them.

The doors to the wing banged open and Neville jumped. Harry's whimpering got louder and Neville turned to glare at whoever it was. His glare faltered when he saw Snape walking towards Remus and Poppy, but then he decided Harry was worth it.

"Will one of you explain to me what happened to _my_ student?" Snape said in a more venomous tone than Neville had ever heard before and he remembered the stories that Sirius and James used to tell them.

"It's a flashback Severus," Remus explained shortly. "He hasn't had one in roughly seven years."

"A flashback to _what?_" Severus asked the question Neville wanted to.

He knew Harry had nightmares. Neville had them too. He would hear his grandmother screaming, and a really disturbing laugh, and then his own screams. Then there were flashes of light, and a lot of shouting, but Harry never asked him what he saw, and he never asked Harry.

"The Dursleys," Remus almost growled the word, his lip curled slightly, and Neville saw Snape pale and flinch. That could only mean that Snape knew Remus was a werewolf. Remus headed over to Neville and Harry and sat down next to Neville, "No change?"

Neville shook his head, "No Moony."

Remus put an arm around Neville and he leaned into the hug, "Just keep talking Neville. Tell him about the first potion you tried to brew."

Neville obeyed his once tutor and started talking in a soft voice. Remus closed his eyes and hummed softly, one of the songs that he used to help Neville focus, and Neville couldn't help but smile, "When we were nine Remus decided to try to teach us about potions, even though your mum is the one who's really good with them, and Brie tagged along but we didn't know she had nicked some fireworks from Padfoot..."

It took well over two hours, and Neville was very late for dinner, but Harry had uncurled himself and fallen into a sound sleep.

"Fifteen points to Gryffindor Neville," Poppy cast a few spells on Harry and pronounced his heart rate and breathing back to normal. "The house elves can bring dinner here for you and Remus."

"You can join us Poppy," Remus offered.

She smiled and clapped her hands. An elf appeared at her side, "Dinner for three and a table Nokki."

The elf bowed and Poppy summoned a chair. As soon as she was settled a table appeared with three place settings and several dishes. Neville felt comfortable as they served themselves. It was like eating at the Manor. He waited patiently, knowing that Remus would explain. Remus always explained.

"I don't even know if Harry remembers Neville," Remus began. "You know that he lived with Lily's sister and her family for a year, right?" Neville nodded. "When Lily picked him up he was in bad shape."

Poppy picked up the story, her hands tight on the utensils, "Bad shape? He was malnourished, bruised, dirty. His growth was stunted. He was already walking and talking by the time You-Know-Who attacked and had stopped both. He had a rash from a diaper that hadn't been changed in days, and a fever that had been left untreated."

Neville's eyes were wide. He had never heard the whole story, only knew that Lily and the Marauders actually _hated_ her family, and they didn't even claim to hate Snape. Lily barely even disliked anyone.

"Harry talked that first day and ran to Lily, but after that initial reaction he reverted to how we think he was at the Dursleys." Remus took a drink and sighed. "It was a hard time Neville. We all lived at the Hall then, as the Manor was being rebuilt. You and your grandmother were recovering from the attack. For a while we thought you would have permanent nerve damage."

Neville nodded. He knew that much. Poppy had told him once that his magic had probably saved him, and that was why it took so long to show up again. He had been totally drained, something that was hard for even a full grown wizard to recover from. He still had problems with his magic, but that was far preferable to the alternative. Neville could have died or been permanently disabled in the attack, or left a squib.

Remus continued his explanation, "Sirius was recovering from his year in Azkaban and Lily was pregnant with Brianna. She had been pregnant when Voldemort attacked them, and after she and James woke the pregnancy accelerated unnaturally. She was bedridden for most of the next four and a half months, which did not help with Harry at all."

"When Brie was born," Neville figured it out. Her birthday was Valentine's Day.

Remus smiled, "We think that Sirius and Harry helped each other heal. They both had horrible nightmares. After a while Sirius just offered to let Harry sleep in his bed, and when they both woke up at night they had someone there for them."

"Albus had to bring in a substitute Healer with the amount of time I spent at the Hall. James and Lily refused to trust anyone else with their family," Poppy added.

"They still don't," Remus poured more pumpkin juice for all of them and put more green beans on Neville's plate. That was the one disadvantage to eating with family (the Potters, the Marauders, and Poppy counted as family). "Brie was born in one way premature and in another far past her due date. She needed almost constant medical attention, as did Lily. Then there was Harry, who wasn't walking or talking and would let almost no one touch him. I still don't know how we all got through it."

"Without you and Sirius they wouldn't have," Poppy pointed out. "Sirius was better during the day, jumpy but relatively healthy once we got some food in him."

"So why is Harry claustrophobic?" Neville wondered aloud. It hadn't been answered yet.

Remus growled and Neville knew it was directed at the Dursleys, "They put him in the cupboard under the stairs. It was cold and dark and small and smelly and they rarely let him out. He was hit and starved and was almost never clean. All this was after he was nearly killed and thought he saw his parents die."

Neville looked over at his friend and knew why he was smaller than any other second year, why he hated the dark and small places, and what must have happened to him that day. He narrowed his eyes as he thought of who might hit Harry and lock him in the closet. It had to be an upper year student, as Neville, Malfoy, and the Weasley twins all couldn't unlock the door.

Poppy sent him back to Gryffindor after they ate, where the Weasley twins pounced on him, almost literally, to ask about Harry.

"He's fine, sleeping," Neville told them quietly. "He'll be at breakfast in the morning, and probably mortally embarrassed so don't you dare say a thing."

They both nodded and went back to their corner with Lee. When Neville's roommates asked where he was during dinner he just glared at them and went up to his room. He shut himself in his bed and worked on his potions essay. When he reflected on that night, Snape had actually sounded _concerned_ about Harry, in a sarcastic, snippy way. Maybe he wasn't all bad.

At breakfast the next morning Lily Potter's owl delivered letters to the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. Neville gave the owl, Bianca, some bacon and did his best to ignore Ron, who was still going off about Harry.

_Neville,_

_Thank you for helping Harry yesterday. We know we can always count on you._

_With Love_

_Lily_

The letter made Neville feel warm inside. His parents and extended family often looked at him doubtfully, as if they didn't expect he'd amount to much. He always knew they were disappointed his magic didn't show up sooner, but Lily and the Marauders always had smiles for him and always encouraged him. In some ways, at some times, he felt like a Potter much more than a Longbottom.

"Did you hear that Kyle Andrews and Jeffers Randall were suspended?" Ron told the others. "McGonagall came into the common room looking for Andrews. I've never seen her that mad before. I heard Potter was in the hospital wing. I bet he had something to do with it."

There were murmurs of agreement and Neville felt his heartbeat quicken. He was furious, like he never been, even when Remus had told him about the Dursleys. Remus was at the staff table, and Harry was sitting with the Slytherins who had come to Gryffindor looking for him, looking a bit pale but otherwise fine. Neville was suddenly glad Harry was in Slytherin. Gryffindor didn't deserve him.

"I've had enough of you Ronald Weasley!" Neville was standing and shouting at the redhead before he even knew what he was doing. "You don't have any proof for any of those rumors you spread. Harry is not the Heir to Slytherin! How many times do I have to tell you to get you to bloody well shut up?"

"Do you have any proof?" Ron countered, his face red.

Neville realized that the whole hall was watching him and he flushed. Remus smiled down at him from the staff table, and Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.

Neville sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself, "Yes I do. After James and Lily rebuilt the Manor they made a new tapestry, using Harry as the base. The Potters are descended from Godric Gryffindor's sister Penelope, and the Evans family comes from a squib line from _your_ family."

"But he's a _Parselmouth_, and he's in _Slytherin_," Ron said as though that was proof enough.

"So?" Neville looked at Ron as though he was an idiot. "He only got that because he _killed Voldemort_." Almost the whole hall flinched. "I'd like to see you even try to say His name, never mind face Him, and Peter Pettigrew was a _Gryffindor_."

Across the hall Harry gave Neville a small smile, and Neville sat down and ducked his head. It didn't really matter that Voldemort wasn't really dead, and none of them would believe that anyway. The Weasley twins started applauding and Neville's face heated even more. Then the _Slytherins_ started applauding for him.

Neville practically ran to Transfiguration, just to get away. He wished Hermione would get out of the hospital wing. He missed the only true friend he had in his tower.

McGonagall pulled him aside as he entered the room, the first one there, "Take another twenty points for showing real Gryffindor courage and loyalty Longbottom. Merlin knows we need it to recover from what Andrews lost."

"How long is he suspended Ma'am?" Neville asked, wanting to make sure the punishment was enough.

"One week of suspension, a letter to their parents, a loss of seventy-five points each, no Hogsmeade trips this term, and two weeks detention when they get back," McGonagall said sternly and then smiled somewhat, "with Professor Snape."

Neville felt a grin form on his face, "Good."

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	19. Chapter 19

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**Chapter Nineteen**

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The rumors and whispers had almost entirely stopped. Harry was amazed at the effect Neville's little speech had on the school as a whole. Suddenly, all sorts of people were asking Harry if he was really descended from Gryffindor, and he had to correct them, no, Godric's sister. More than one person asked to hear him speak Parseltongue. Hermione was in classes again, and she refused to tell anyone why she was in the hospital wing in the first place.

"It was almost better when they all avoided me and glared at me," Harry muttered after a Hufflepuff sixth year had stopped him in the hall to ask him if his godfather was as cute in person as he was in _Witch Weekly_. Harry had snapped at her that the man was his _godfather_ and Harry was only _twelve_.

"We can start a rumor that you're related to Snape," Malfoy smirked at him.

"_You're_ related to Snape," Harry protested.

"So I would know," Malfoy was very smug.

Harry had blinked at him a few times before smirking back, "Very Slytherin Malfoy."

When Malfoy wasn't being a prat he was pretty fun to be around. He and Harry hadn't found anything more about the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle had been a Slytherin, and Head Boy like Weasel had said, but before and after Hogwarts he essentially didn't exist. They concluded he was a half-blood, but couldn't find which wizarding family could claim relation.

None of them asked him about the day the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw sixth years had attacked him. It was one of the things he liked about Slytherins. If a situation was truly personal or sensitive and no information was offered, then no one asked.

If they really wanted the information they would find a way to get it without making the subject upset. Harry suspected that a few of his friends would approach Neville eventually, if they hadn't already. Harry's mum had written that Remus told Neville all about the Dursleys that day.

Andrews and Randall came back and were shocked to find that the mood of the school had swung completely around. Harry was no longer the main suspect in the attacks, and once everyone heard why they were suspended the two boys learned what being ostracized felt like. Harry also had it on good authority that Snape was making their lives absolutely miserable in detention. No one attacked a Slytherin without retaliation from the House.

Valentine's Day was the most asinine thing Harry had ever seen. He wondered what Dumbledore was thinking to give Lockhart free reign like that. Didn't that fool know that love potions were illegal? Snape looked livid.

The singing goblins were the worst idea he had ever heard, and with the school in his favor again Harry dreaded them approaching him. So the first goblin he saw he pulled aside and gave him five Galleons to prevent all singing Valentines, betting on every goblin's love of gold. The other Slytherins laughed every time Harry's paid goblin intercepted another and persuaded them away.

Harry was beyond relieved when the day ended and he had avoided all romance seeking, star struck girls. For some reason Valentine's Day brought out the worst in them. Hedwig was off delivering Brie's birthday present so she couldn't be persuaded to deliver any Valentines. There was a Potter house-elf that took care of all Harry's fan mail and Dumbledore had allowed the elf to come to Hogwarts to continue doing the same work.

Over the Easter Holiday the second years were given something to think about. They had to choose which classes to add to their schedules for the following years, and their choices would determine which O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s they could take, and so what their career could be.

Harry had never really given much thought to his future career. As a Potter, he just assumed he would go into Auror training, so he would sign up for courses that would be good for that career. Divination was out since Harry was not a seer. He finally settled on Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes.

The day of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff quidditch game came and Harry was eager to get a good seat. All the second year Slytherins headed out of the great hall together, and were almost crashed into by a running Hermione.

"Sorry!" Hermione yelled as she ran. "Library! I think... it might..."

They stared as a group as she dashed away, hair flying out behind her.

"That girl is mental," Pansy flipped her hair over her shoulder and hung on Draco's arm. She was nearly his sister, their relationship something like the one Harry and Neville had.

"What was that all about?" Harry wondered aloud.

Blaise laughed at him, "She's your friend."

"Save a girl from a troll, you're stuck for life," Harry lamented sarcastically.

"Gryffindor," Tracey scoffed and swatted Harry's arm.

"_Kill this time... let me rip... tear..._" Harry refused to react. He would not let them know he was hearing voices.

The rest of them laughed and Harry scowled. Ever since Neville's announcement, Harry had been finding red and gold everywhere and the Slytherins all taunted him that he was really a Gryffindor spy, straight from the family itself. It was good natured taunting that made him feel even more accepted in his House, always accompanied by that teasing smirk that all Slytherins perfected by the end of their first year.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff players were headed out to the pitch when Harry and his year mates got outside. The weather was finally starting to warm up and Harry was looking forward to a good game.

He was not expecting Professor McGonagall to approach their group with a tense look on her face, "Mr. Potter come with me. Where is Mr. Longbottom?"

"Still in the hall I think," said Harry. "Is there something wrong? The game..."

"The game has been cancelled," Harry was stunned. It took something significant to cancel a quidditch game.

The other Slytherins all exchanged looks and Draco followed Harry and McGonagall. She paused in their walk and looked at him in curiosity, "Mr. Malfoy I did not ask for you as well."

"We do not let Harry walk in the castle alone Ma'am," Malfoy had his arrogant, heir of a powerful pureblood family face on. "He _will_ have to return to the common room."

Harry felt his cheeks turning red. It hadn't really been stated before, but it was obvious that his year mates had decided to escort him wherever he went. They knew he could defend himself, as he had exhibited in their common room, but older students could gang up on him.

"Five points for Slytherin Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said curtly and kept walking. They caught Neville in the great hall and he joined their silent group. Harry noticed that Neville didn't seem intimidated by Malfoy anymore and wondered when that happened.

She brought them to the hospital wing and Harry felt like a hand gripped his heart and squeezed, "More attacks?"

"I am afraid so," McGonagall said as she opened the door.

"Hermione!" Neville cried out and ran to her bedside.

Harry joined him there, with Malfoy a respectful distance away. She was frozen, just like Colin and Justin, and there was another girl with Ravenclaw robes and a Prefect badge.

"She was holding this," McGonagall held up a pocket mirror that was cracked. "Does this mean anything to either of you?"

Harry and Neville shook their heads. Nothing about the mirror was familiar, or held any clue for Harry. McGonagall looked disappointed. Harry saw for the first time that her eyes had dark circles underneath and her lips were always pressed into that tight, tense line now. The stress of the attacks was seriously affecting the staff, probably much more than the students.

"Head back to your common rooms," McGonagall instructed. "I will escort Mr. Longbottom. No one should be in the corridors alone now."

Malfoy followed Harry towards the Slytherin common room, "I didn't mean it you know. I didn't want her to be attacked."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "Hagrid couldn't have opened the Chamber, but he was here when it happened and he has to know something."

"You're not going out there alone," Malfoy said stubbornly.

Harry looked back at him and saw that his eyes were determined, "After dinner then. We'll use my cloak."

Malfoy just nodded and they continued on. At dinner it was announced that quidditch was cancelled until further notice and professors would escort students between classes. No one was to be in the corridors alone or outside of their common rooms after dark.

Despite the new restrictions Harry and Malfoy crept across the ground under Harry's invisibility cloak towards Hagrid's hut. Harry knocked, and then ducked when Hagrid had his crossbow in hand as he opened the door.

"Who's there?" Hagrid asked, a bit shaky.

"It's me!" Harry said.

"'Arry?" Hagrid stepped back and ushered them in. Harry took off the cloak and Hagrid frowned, "What's 'e doin' 'ere?"

"Playing bodyguard," Harry stated, drawing a scowl from Malfoy. "Look Hagrid, I know why you were expelled, and that you didn't really hurt anyone." Hagrid's face change emotions at least three times. "Who is Tom Riddle?"

Hagrid looked confused, "'E was a Prefect, and Head Boy. 'E turned me in, thought that Aragog was what 'urt all them students an' killed Myrtle." There was a noise outside the cottage, "Quick hide!"

Harry pulled Malfoy back into a corner of the cottage and got the cloak around them just before Dumbledore came in, followed by Fudge and Sirius.

"Bad business this Hagrid," Fudge said sadly. "Four students petrified, people are looking for answers. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I want you to know Cornelius," Dumbledore said gravely, "that Hagrid has my full confidence."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, and shot a brief glare at Fudge. Harry's dad and Sirius had both voiced their frustrations with the Minister of Magic on more than one occasion. There was a knock on the door and Hagrid opened it to reveal Lucius Malfoy, who walked in and held his cloak close so it wouldn't touch anything. Harry felt Draco tense beside him and put a hand on his arm.

"Why are you 'ere Malfoy?" Hagrid asked. "Get out of my house."

"Believe me," Malfoy spoke as if he was addressing a lower life form, "I have no desire to be in this... did you call this your _house_? I only called up at the school and was told that the Headmaster is here." Dumbledore's eyes blazed. "This is an Order of Suspension – you'll find all twelve signatures. Two more attacks wasn't it? At this rate there will no muggle-borns left in the school, and what a _terrible_ loss that would be."

"Now see here Lucius, Dumbledore suspended, last thing we want just now," Fudge started but was interrupted by Hagrid.

"Dumbledore's the ony thing keepin' the school together," Hagrid was suddenly outraged. "You take 'im away, there'll be killins' next!"

"Black," Fudge motioned.

Sirius gave Hagrid a beseeching look and the half-giant calmed himself and followed Sirius outside, "Right. If anyone wants to know anythin' they'd just follow the spiders. Someone will need ta feed Fang while I'm gone."

"Well that's done with," Fudge brushed his hands against his robes and started away.

Dumbledore took the parchment from Malfoy and looked directly into the corner where Harry and Draco stood, "You may remove me from the school, but I shall never be gone so long as there are those here who are loyal to me."

Malfoy followed his gaze into the corner and looked at Dumbledore as though he were truly crazy. Dumbledore did a lot of strange things though, so one more would be no surprise. Once they were all gone Harry swept off the cloak.

"There's something I'm missing!" Harry cursed viciously.

Malfoy looked at the door still, "Does he actually want a student killed? It could be anyone!"

"Malfoy?" Harry looked at the other boy.

"That girl," Malfoy swallowed, "Clearwater. She's a pureblood."

Harry understood then. It wasn't just muggle-borns as victims. If purebloods could be attacked then Malfoy could be attacked, and it might be his father's fault. Malfoy was questioning if his father would go as far as sacrificing his own son for whatever aim he had.

They got back under the cloak and headed out the door, where Harry spotted a line of spiders headed into the forest. He stopped and watched them.

"Potter no," Malfoy almost sounded like he was begging. "We're not going in the forest, not again."

Harry agreed, remembering his last trip into those woods, "No. We know Hagrid was innocent then, and he's innocent now. Spiders don't petrify. Besides, I have no intention of meeting anymore of Hagrid's pets. Norbert and Fluffy were more than enough."

There was no more discussion as they headed back to the castle. Harry had a sinking feeling that things would only get worse. Dumbledore was gone, Hagrid was gone, and the Ministry was nowhere near capturing whoever was behind the attacks.

Malfoy was especially horrid over the next days. There was only a week left before exams, and he was boasting about Dumbledore being gone, and muggle-borns getting attacked. Each time Harry was tempted to knock some sense into the other boy, but then he saw the lost look that Malfoy was trying to hide and he couldn't hit him or yell at him.

Lockhart was almost as bad, telling anyone who would listen and all his classes that he knew all along it was Hagrid. He claimed to know where the Chamber was hidden and what beast was inside. Most people ignored him though, as Harry suspected that no student had learned a thing in his class that year. He felt bad for the fifth and seventh year students who had to take their Ministry exams.

McGonagall announced at breakfast that the Mandrakes were almost ready and the Draught would be prepared to reverse petrification soon. The whole school was talking about it, and how one of them might be able to identify the Heir.

Harry kept turning over in his mind everything he had learned about the Chamber. What had Hagrid said before the Minister, Sirius, and Dumbledore showed up, and then Malfoy? He had mentioned the girl that was killed the last time the Chamber was opened, Myrtle.

"That's it!" Harry said to himself.

"What?" Blaise asked him.

Harry looked up to see Lockhart gathering the class together. He pulled Malfoy aside, "Hagrid said the girl who was killed last time was named Myrtle. What if she never left?" Malfoy just looked at Harry in confusion. "The ghost, Moaning Myrtle, what if it was her?"

Malfoy's eyes widened, "We need to find her."

"Which means we need to escape from Lockhart," Harry said quietly.

"Easy," Malfoy smirked. "Oh Professor!"

"Yes Mr. Malfoy?" Lockhart turned in the doorway.

Malfoy put on a look of long suffering, "You don't really need to escort us do you? After all, you said it yourself, now that Hagrid is gone the danger is past."

"You could use the time to prepare for your next lesson," Harry added. "There's really no need for you to bring us all the way out to the greenhouses. You might even break a sweat trying to get back here before the bell."

A look of momentary horror crossed Lockhart's face before he recovered and smiled widely, "Quite right. Off with you now!"

Harry snickered outside the classroom, "What a blooming idiot."

"Let's go," Malfoy pulled his arm and waved for the others to go. They too were snickering at Lockhart's gullibility. "The Baron can tell us where Myrtle haunts."

"Where do you two think you're going?" McGonagall's voice snapped at them before they got to the stairs.

Harry turned and tried to look upset, "I just wanted to see Hermione. I was mad at her... and then she was petrified... and I never told her..."

McGonagall sniffed, "These times have been hardest on the friends of those... Of course you can..." She brought them to the hospital wing and told Poppy why they were there.

Poppy gave Harry a hard look, "There's no point talking to someone who's been petrified. They can't hear."

Harry just did his best to look pathetic and mentally blessed Sirius for lessons in getting away with anything. Poppy ruffled his hair and left them alone with Hermione.

"Great Potter," Malfoy hissed, "now what?"

"We talk to her," Harry said quietly. "Poppy is already suspicious." Harry looked down at Hermione and felt a little silly, "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry I got mad at you. I know you don't have any control over Weasel and Finnigan."

Malfoy lifted his eyebrows. Harry motioned like he was drinking something and the grey eyes went wide. Harry stepped back and pushed Malfoy forwards. Malfoy shook his head, and Harry glared. He yanked the blond so he was standing next to Hermione.

Malfoy glared at Harry, "Fine. Look Granger, I apologize for calling you a Mudblood. You can't help that your parents are stupid muggles." Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes Malfoy was just so thick! "Hey what's this?"

"What's what?"

"She's got some parchment in her hand," Malfoy yanked at it and Harry looked to see if Poppy was checking on them. "Here, it's a passage about basilisks, and she wrote down 'pipes'. Well, that's useless."

Harry, however, felt everything fall into place. He leaned over and kissed Hermione's forehead, "Hermione you're brilliant. Come on Malfoy."

Malfoy followed Harry's quick pace out of the hospital wing and towards Slytherin, "What is it?"

Harry took a deep breath, "I've been hearing this voice... in the walls..."

"The Basilisk is a snake," Malfoy finished. "Its glare kills but if it's a reflection it just petrifies. Pipes... you've been hearing it using the pipes to get around the school."

"There was water on the floor when we found Mrs. Norris. Creevey always has that damned camera. Finch-Fletchly must have seen it through Nick, and Hermione was holding a mirror. We have to tell someone," Harry decided. "This means there's another Parselmouth in the school, using it to control the snake."

They were almost at the great hall when McGonagall's amplified voice carried through the halls.

_"All students return to their common rooms at once. All teachers to the staff room. Immediately please."_

Harry and Malfoy exchanged a glance. There had to have been another attack. Students poured out of the hall and Harry grabbed Fred and George as they went by, their little brother stopped with them.

"Where does Moaning Myrtle haunt?" Harry asked them with a hard look in his eyes.

"Second floor girls' bathroom, why?" The answer surprisingly came from Weasel.

Fred snickered, "Has ickle Ronniekins been in the girls' bathroom?"

"Aw, got a girlfriend Ronniekins?" George continued the teasing.

Weasel's face went bright red, and surprisingly it was Malfoy that stopped it.

"The idiot probably just got confused," Malfoy said in disdain. "What girl would touch that?"

Weasel's attention was on Malfoy and Harry pulled Fred and George back to him, "Just get the map and pay attention if anyone goes in there." They looked confused but nodded and left for Gryffindor.

"That's enough you two," Harry snapped loudly. Malfoy just instantly calmed and began inspecting his fingernails. Weasel looked back and forth between the two Slytherins in confusion. "It's a bathroom, pipes. I bet you anything the entrance is in there."

"The entrance?" Weasel asked.

"To the Chamber of Secrets!" Harry hissed. "We have to find McGonagall or Snape. They're all in the teacher's lounge."

"It's this way," Malfoy led them up the stairs.

"How do you know?" Weasel huffed.

"Snape is my godfather," Malfoy said as if everyone should know.

Malfoy took them through a dozen turns and they stopped right outside the door.

"The monster's taken a student into the Chamber," McGonagall was telling the teachers. "There was a note right below the first. _Her bones will lie in the Chamber forever_."

"Who is it Minerva?" Professor Sprout asked.

"Ginny Weasley," McGonagall said sadly.

Harry wrapped an arm around Weasel and slapped a hand over his mouth. The boy struggled until Malfoy pulled his wand and pointed it at him. There was the sound of a door opening and closing.

"Sorry, I dozed off," Lockhart sounded cheerful. "What have I missed?"

The professors made short work of Lockhart and Harry released Weasel, who was looking almost panicked.

"We have to get to our Houses before the Heads," Harry hissed. "When they're done we meet at Lockhart's room. He's going into the Chamber so we might as well give him the information we have." Neither of them objected so Harry continued, "Weasel...ly. Ask Fred and George for me if they saw anyone. They'll know what I mean. If they have they don't need to watch anymore."

Weasley nodded and left, his eyes bright. Harry and Malfoy headed down towards Slytherin as quickly as they could, taking as many shortcuts as they knew.

"You could've been a Gryff you know," Malfoy snorted.

Harry smirked, but it was a cold expression. He felt hollow inside, "Yeah I know. My dad and grandfather argued with the hat, or they would have been Slytherins too." Malfoys eyes widened again. "Imagine that huh? Slytherins and Gryffindors really aren't that different, and that's probably why they can't stand each other."

They made it into Slytherin just moments before Snape got there. All students were to pack their belongings in anticipation of the school closing. No one was to leave the House.

When Snape left Harry turned to Malfoy, "We need my cloak."

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	20. Chapter 20

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**Chapter Twenty**

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There were three redheads just outside Lockhart's room and Draco groaned. One was bad enough, but _three_? He didn't even know why he was there, except that the Slytherins as a whole had decreed that Harry Potter needed someone with him at all times, if not to protect him than to at least give him an alibi the next time he tripped over a body.

Draco had been elected because of his advanced knowledge of spells for a second year, and because he and Harry had been whispering so much lately. The rest of the House figured that they were bound to be close friends, so they might as well start then.

He had wanted to be friends with Harry, but he was rejected for a Weasley... of all people, a _Weasley!_ And then neither of them had ended up friends with the Weasel, and not with each other. At first Draco had tried to get Harry in trouble as revenge, and it just escalated.

But he still wanted to be his friend, ever since he saw him in Madame Malkin's, the dark haired quiet boy with such a powerful aura and those sparkling green eyes. Draco had sensed that Harry would understand him, would be an equal instead of what he had from Crabbe and Goyle.

They were friends, sort of, but not equals. They couldn't hold a candle to Harry's magical power and knowledge. And if Draco could actually keep his mouth shut it might work out. Exercising such restraint was entirely new to Draco but he accepted the challenge.

Sometimes it was all Draco could do not to hex the fool though. He went diving headlong into dangerous situations with no thoughts for the consequences.

"Is this a family reunion?" Draco couldn't help himself. He couldn't stand the Weasleys. They were unrefined, sanctimonious fools... and they were _poor_. It was like some horrible disease, the hand-me-down robes and strange cheerfulness. How could they all be so happy with no money?

They all ignored him, even Harry, and Draco grit his teeth. How _dare_ they?

"Ginny went into the bathroom alone right after we got to our room, and then just disappeared," Twin One said, his eyes looking a bit red.

"Alone?" Harry repeated, sounding confused.

"What's going on?" Twin Two demanded. "McGonagall said Gin's in the Chamber, and Ron said you thought the entrance is in Myrtle's bathroom."

"I'm about to tell Lockhart everything," Harry said. "You'll hear it all then." He paused and Draco wondered what he was thinking. Then he pulled the twin Weasleys into a hug, "I'm sorry about Ginny. If it was Brie missing I'd be going mad."

Draco just blinked. He didn't have any siblings. Pansy was the closest he got, and she was just a bit bossy. He let her, because he could talk to her about anything, but she could take care of herself. The Weasley twins sniffed and hugged Harry tightly though.

The five of them entered Lockhart's room and saw that all the portraits were gone. There was some noise from the office and they followed it, only to see Lockhart packing. Five wands were out instantly.

"You're leaving!" Twin One exclaimed.

Twin Two looked equally furious, "What about our sister?"

"Most regrettable," Lockhart was almost silly with nerves and fear. Draco narrowed his eyes. The man was even more a coward than he thought.

"What about all those things you've done?" Weasel asked in despair.

Draco listened to the explanation in disgust. It was one of those things that people would say was a Slytherin thing to do, but it was just stealing. Lockhart was nothing more than petty thief. Before the man could raise his wand Draco disarmed him, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Draco scowled and saw Harry snatch the wand out of the air, "You're pathetic. Look, Harry's probably the only one who can get into the Chamber so he has to go. You two," Draco motioned to the twins, "go to the staff room. I assume you know where it is. Tell McGonagall and Snape. We'll go make sure the girl doesn't die."

What was he doing? Rushing into things like this was for Gryffindors. Draco had a sinking suspicion that Harry was right, that Gryffindors and Slytherins were more alike than either House would readily admit, Harry the one shining exception.

"I'll just be going then," Lockhart tried to slip by.

"Nice try," Harry said harshly. "You're coming with us. Maybe the Basilisk will go after you and give us some time."

Then again, no Gryffindor would suggest something like that. Both Draco and Harry prodded the professor with their wands. Harry tossed Lockhart's wand to the twins and they brought it with them.

"Lead the way Weasley," Draco instructed. The Weasel was only there because he knew where the bathroom was more readily than either of them did. Draco just hoped he didn't try to use his wand.

The floor of the bathroom was wet and there was a ghost of a girl, well... moaning, just like her name said.

"Myrtle," Harry said in a kind voice. His eyes were darting all around the room though. "We were wondering... how did you die?"

The moaning stopped and the girl floated down to Harry, "I remember you. You were at the party." Draco gave Harry a look and he just shrugged. "This one's been in here a lot, making potions that smell just horrible. I told him that boys shouldn't be here." She glared at all of them.

"Well, we've got a professor with us," Draco said sweetly and poked Lockhart's back. The man just smiled nervously at the ghost.

As Myrtle recapped her death, complete with a side story about Olive Hornby teasing her, who Draco knew from a dinner party his parents held, (She had married a Slytherin, who then became the Head of the Department for Experimental Charms at the Ministry) Harry inspected the sinks. After the ghost finished her story Harry motioned for the others to join him.

"Look here," Harry pointed to a snake engraved on the pipe of one sink. "This is it."

"That one never worked," Myrtle offered.

"Well say something," Weasel prompted, "something snakeish."

Harry glared back at him, "It's not quite that easy. I'm not a natural speaker. I need a snake."

Weasel started to talk again and Draco elbowed him. Harry was concentrating on the pipe, probably the snake etching. Then Harry started to hiss, and Draco felt a shiver. The only other time he had heard Parseltongue he had been too stunned to really listen. But this time, Draco just felt entranced. It was amazing.

The sinks began to move, and an opening appeared. He peered down into the darkness, "Phew. It stinks."

"You first," Harry pushed Lockhart forward. The professor stumbled and slipped down. "Weasley next, then me, and Malfoy. Don't let Lockhart out of your sight."

They nodded and Weasley took a deep breath before jumping down. Harry looked back at Malfoy and gave him a wry grin, "Snape's going to have a fit. He told me to keep these Gryffindor tendencies under control."

With that he jumped. Draco just shook his head. Severus wasn't going to be half as mad at Harry as he was going to be with Draco. He didn't have the excuse of Gryffindor parents. Draco contemplated the opening. He could just turn around, but that would leave Harry taking on a basilisk with a Weasley with a broken wand and a useless professor with no wand.

Draco shook his head again and jumped. He heard the sink closing behind him and cursed. No one would be able to follow them down to help.

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	21. Chapter 21

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**Chapter Twenty-One**

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When he landed he was greeted with an interesting sight. Harry was edging down the wall while Lockhart pointed Weasel's broken wand at the redhead, who was yelling at him.

"_Obliviate!_" Draco winced. The same as had happened out by the quidditch pitch happened there. The spell shot out the wrong end of the wand and hit Lockhart in the gut. There was a flash, and a rumbling, and a portion of the ceiling caved in.

"Harry!" Draco yelled out, running towards the cave-in. Harry had been standing there, just where the rocks fell. "Harry!"

"I'm okay!" Harry's voice was muffled. "I'm going on. Try to move some of these rocks."

"Wait!" Draco yelled. "You idiot wait until we can come!" There was no answer and Draco growled in frustration.

Weasley was staring down at Lockhart and bent to retrieve his wand, with no resistance, "I never thought I'd be glad I broke my wand."

Lockhart was unconscious and Draco decided to leave him for the time being. He started levitating rocks out of the way as quickly as he could. He moved a large one, and there was a rumble.

"Damn!" Draco swore. "We can only move the ones not holding the ceiling up." He looked back at Weasley, who was still looking at Lockhart. "Don't just stand there, help me!"

"Do you think he's okay?" Weasel asked, his voice a little vacant. Draco wondered if the spell had actually hit both of them.

"I don't care," Draco snapped, exasperated. "Harry just went to fight a basilisk by himself to save _your_ sister. Do you _understand? _Do you think a twelve year old can defeat a bloody huge snake that's nearly impervious to magic, and whoever is controlling it?"

Weasel blinked at him, "I... I just..." Draco held his breath and counted to ten. He would not hex the Weasel. He would not hex the Weasel. Weasel bit his lip and started picking up rocks and moving them, not bothering to even try his wand.

"Good," Draco said tersely. He worked on the rocks that Weasel couldn't lift and together they eventually managed to clear a section big enough for them to wriggle through. Harry and the Weaslette were smaller and would have no trouble.

Draco went first and when he got to the other side he saw that his robes were covered in muck from sliding down the pipes and now torn from climbing through a rockslide, "Ew, oh ew!"

"What's the matter?" Weasel asked.

"Look at me! Look at you!" Draco cast a dozen cleaning spells on both of them and Weasel grinned.

"Can't fight a monster with dirty robes?" the redhead teased, trapped sister momentarily forgotten.

Draco glared, "You might be used to it, rolling around in a pigsty and playing with the chickens, but I hate being dirty."

They glared at each other, and then both remembered why they had scrambled through those rocks to begin with. They turned to help Harry and saw a closed door. Draco started shooting unlocking spells at it, remembering that day when Harry was trapped in a closet. He still had to find out what that was all about.

"It's not working," Weasley grabbed his wand arm. "I bet Potter had to use Parseltongue to open it. We'll have to wait."

Draco hit the door and yelled as loud as he could, "Damn you Potter! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Hello?" Lockhart's voice came from back where they had left him. "Dear me this is a gloomy place."

Draco and Weasley exchanged suffering looks and trudged back towards their professor. This was all going to take a lot of explaining.

FRED and George Weasley burst into the staff lounge and Minerva's first thought was to wonder how they got the password. They were out of breath and both had red-rimmed eyes. Severus was only barely containing himself, for which she was glad. With their little sister missing they did not need his particular brand of interrogation and vitriol.

"What is it?" Minerva asked them kindly, approaching the door.

"Harry... Chamber... Lockhart...," one of them gasped out.

The other continued, "bathroom... basilisk... Ginny..."

The staff members all exchanged perplexed looks. Severus stepped forward and handed them both vials he produced out of his robes, "Drink. Now."

The Weasleys looked skeptical but obeyed and drank what Minerva assumed was a calming potion, quite possibly with a touch of truth potion if she knew Severus. It wouldn't surprise her. The twins calmed visibly and exchanged a series of glances. They had always communicated silently, and Minerva would have suspected them of using it to cheat if they weren't nearly as identical in knowledge as they were in appearance.

"Harry figured out where the Chamber is," Fred told them. "The entrance is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She was killed the last time it was opened."

"We all went to tell Lockhart, since he was going to find Ginny," George continued without missing a beat, "but he was packing to leave. So Harry took him down to the Chamber with him."

"You mean Potter has gone after your sister with Lockhart?" Severus hissed, and Minerva felt her blood drain out of her face. James and Lily were going to kill her. They couldn't blame Albus for this one. He wasn't even there.

The twins just nodded. The calming potion might have been a little too strong, as they were showing almost no emotion.

"Show us where the entrance is boys," Minerva instructed. With some luck they could down there and Harry wouldn't be alone, as he essentially was with just Gilderoy Lockhart for assistance.

The Weasley twins led the staff through the halls to the second floor girls' bathroom. The teenage ghost that haunted one of the toilets there could be heard moaning and carrying on.

"Myrtle," Minerva said authoritatively. She needed answers fast. "Tell me who has been here today and where they went."

Myrtle floated down, "The girl with red hair was here and she went down the pipe."

"Was she alone?" Severus questioned.

"Mmm Hmm," Myrtle nodded her head. "Then the boys and the professor went down there."

"The boys?" Severus turned to the Weasleys.

"Ron is with them," Fred Weasley supplied.

"Wonderful," Severus had a vein starting to throb on his neck. "Two twelve year old boys, one with a broken wand, and a man who couldn't cast a _lumos_ without trouble against a basilisk and whoever is controlling it!"

George Weasley produced a wand from his pocket, "We have Lockhart's wand."

"Oh dear me," Minerva wished Albus was there. He was so much better at insane crisis situations than she was. "Severus and Filius, try to open that Chamber. Pomona, go get the school plans. Bring them to the staff room and everyone else will try to find another way in. Fetch Argus Rolanda. He is with Poppy. Misters Weasley come with me. Your parents are on their way here."

The majority of the staff left to carry out her instructions while Severus started questioning Myrtle more thoroughly and Filius began examining the room. The Weasley boys followed her to her office and took seats. Just as she sat down Percy Weasley skidded into the room.

"Professor," Percy sounded frantic, much like everyone was right about then, "my brothers are all... Fred! George! Where is Ron?"

Minerva drew up another chair for Percy and motioned for him to sit, "Your brother has gone after your sister. There are staff members on their way to assist him as we speak. You may wait here for your parents."

A heavy silence fell over the room, and Minerva conjured up tea and biscuits for the boys. They needed something to occupy themselves, aside from worrying about the two youngest Weasleys.

HARRY was about ready to collapse. The basilisk's head was singed, as his fire had held it back but not killed it, and the point of Gryffindor's sword was sticking out the top. He yanked at the sword and winced when the basilisk fang stuck in his arm snapped off and stayed in him. Harry stumbled to where Ginny lay, still unconscious, and dropped next to her.

He gripped the fang and pulled it out of his arm, just barely able to keep from screaming. The pain was white hot, searing, and his vision blurred. Poppy had fixed his eyesight years ago, but it was like she never had. The poison would act fast, and Harry knew he didn't have time to get an antidote. Strange, he felt at peace even knowing he was dying.

"Fawkes," Harry used his good arm to stroke the bird as color swirled around him, "you were magnificent."

Fawkes laid his head on the spot where the fang had pierced him.

"You're dead Potter," Tom Riddle said with venom. "Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. He's crying."

Harry blinked. He could feel the tears entering his arm at the wound. Fawkes's head swam into focus. Thick pearly tears were dropping from his head. Harry used what strength he had to glare up at Riddle. How had Riddle gotten his wand? Harry couldn't even remember dropping it. He blinked again. No, that was Ginny's wand. It was the same wood, but shorter.

"If I'm dying I'm taking you with me," Harry took out his wand with his good hand. He hadn't dropped it, hadn't bothered trying it against the basilisk because the snake was protected by its scales.

Riddle cocked his head to the side and started getting angry. He pointed the wand at Fawkes, "Phoenix tears... healing powers... how could I forget?"

There was a bang and a flash of light and Fawkes flew away.

"It doesn't matter," Riddle smiled confidently. "This is as it should be. You against me, no snake, no bird."

Harry lifted his wand and stood up. Fawkes flew by and dropped the diary by Ginny, and Harry understood what Dumbledore's familiar meant for him to do. He just had to distract Riddle long enough. Harry concentrated and tilted his head just a bit. He felt a rush as fire leapt up at Riddle's feet and started burning his robes.

Riddle yelped and extinguished the fire, or so he thought. Elemental fire could not be put out with simple spells. Harry let it die. Riddle shot a spell at Harry and he dropped and rolled, casting a shield to deflect the spell back at Riddle.

As Harry rolled he picked up the fang and he came to one knee by the diary. Riddle stared at the diary and Harry plunged the fang down, "Go back to Hell."

The scream was the second most horrible Harry had ever heard. Ink flooded the floor and spurted up onto Harry's hand. Riddle writhed and screamed and jerked on the floor... and was gone. The diary had a hole in the middle, burned by the basilisk venom. Ginny shuddered next to him.

Harry picked up the sword and slid it into his belt. He held the diary and let the fang fall to the floor. He slid his wand back into his wrist holster.

Ginny looked up at him, with his blood-soaked robes and the diary dripping ink, and began to cry.

"I'm s-s-sorry Harry. It was me. I tried to tell Ron... at breakfast... I-I didn't mean to... Riddle made me... he took over... how did you..."

Harry knelt down next to her, as he would if Brie was upset, and brought her into a hug, "Shh. It's all over now. Riddle is gone. The basilisk is gone."

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny cried and Harry rocked her, letting her get it all out. "I've wanted to come to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill did and n-now... _what will Mum and Dad say?_"

Harry helped her stand but had no words of comfort. He knew the diary had enchanted her, but that didn't mean she wouldn't get expelled. After all, she had trusted the diary, a clearly dark artifact. He picked up the sorting hat and led Ginny to where Fawkes was hovering by the entrance to the chamber.

Thankfully the door opened with only a little push. Harry didn't think speaking Parseltongue around Ginny was the best idea just then. Fawkes flew ahead of them with a long quivering note that made Harry's whole being lighten. He could see Malfoy's face through a gap in the rocks and hoisted Ginny up to scramble through first.

"_Ginny!_" Harry heard Weasley exclaim.

Then Ginny was crying again and Harry suspected her brother was hugging her. Harry climbed through and Malfoy gripped his arm tightly. Harry gave him a shaky smile and saw the look of amazement as Malfoy took in the blood, slime, ink, tears, sword, sorting hat.

"Hello," Lockhart smiled vacantly at Harry, "who are you?"

"Don't," Malfoy groaned. "He completely wiped his own memory. You, up!" Malfoy ordered and Lockhart obeyed.

Fawkes carried them out of the Chamber and landed them in the bathroom where Snape and Flitwick looked about ready to jump down the pipe.

"Hi," Harry managed, feeling completely exhausted. He really needed a nap.

"Draco?" Snape looked completely unprepared to see him there.

"Hey Sev," Malfoy smiled tentatively.

Snape just blinked. Then he turned to Harry and the Weasleys, "Go to Professor McGonagall's office. Draco, come with me. I wouldn't be surprised if your father was on his way here already."

Malfoy paled and nodded quickly. He hurried after his godfather, leaving the others with Flitwick. The Chamber closed behind them and Flitwick had to jump to get out of the way.

"You heard Professor Snape," Flitwick said. "Go on now. We're glad to have you back Miss Weasley."

Ginny sniffled as they followed Fawkes away from the bathroom. Harry heard Flitwick behind them muttering and setting a series of wards around the sink. They entered McGonagall's office and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Percy jumped up. Dumbledore was there as well, eyes twinkling.

"Ginny!" The Weasleys cried out as one. Ginny was crying again as her family passed her around for hugs.

Harry pulled Gryffindor's sword out of his belt and placed it on McGonagall's desk, still bloody. Fawkes flew past them all and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder. When the Weasleys calmed down, after hugging Harry as well, Harry sat down and began to relay his tale, carefully leaving out Malfoy's involvement and his use of elemental magic.

He caught the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes and suspected that his evasions were useless with the Headmaster, but they were meant for the others anyway. McGonagall was taking great, steadying breaths and the Weasleys were gawking at Harry.

Eventually, the majority of the Weasleys left to take Ginny up to Poppy. McGonagall was sent down to the kitchens to get the house elves started on a feast, as the Mandrake Draught had just been administered and everyone who was petrified was recovering. Lockhart's folly was revealed and after awarding Harry and Weasel two hundred points apiece, Weasel was enlisted to bring Lockhart to Poppy. Harry and Dumbledore were left alone.

Their main topic of conversation was Riddle, and Harry elaborated on how he defeated him. But then Harry asked the one question he didn't understand.

"Sir," Harry stroked the hilt of Gryffindor's sword, "since I'm a Slytherin, how did I pull _that_ out of the hat?"

Dumbledore smiled, "I understand your father and grandfather both fought against being placed in Slytherin. Had you done the same, I have no doubt you would be a Gryffindor. No one is this school carries the traits of one House only Harry."

Harry just nodded. He yawned and stretched, and then heard quick, angry footsteps and apologetic squeaking. He jumped to his feet as Lucius Malfoy strode in and yelled at Dumbledore for coming back to the school, Dobby cringing at his feet, hands and ears bandaged.

"It seems, Lucius, that the other Governors were under the impression that you would curse their families if they did not suspend me," Dumbledore accused with a smile and a twinkle. "When they were notified that Arthur Weasley's daughter was missing, they called for my return immediately."

Lucius Malfoy knew defeat when he saw it, and he saved what dignity he could before stalking out of the room. Harry felt a mischievous urge and looked up at Dumbledore, "Can I give Mr. Malfoy the diary back?"

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry wondered if the man had been a Slytherin with Gryffindor tendencies as well, or maybe the other way around. Sometimes he was just so... sneaky.

As planned, Malfoy flung aside the dirty sock Harry had stuffed the diary in, and Dobby caught it as it floated down. Harry found himself wand to wand with the former Death Eater, and was not at all surprised when Dobby intervened and sent the man flying down the stairs. House elves were extremely protective when roused.

Exams were cancelled as a school treat, much to Hermione's despair, and even the staff (Snape refrained of course) joined in on the cheering when it was announced that Lockhart would not be returning. Hagrid arrived halfway through the feast, and gave Harry a great bear hug, which Harry suspected might have bruised a few ribs.

What worried Harry was Malfoy. He was quiet and sullen. The news had come that his father had been sacked as a school governor. He scowled when people tried to talk to him, and even snapped at Crabbe and Goyle, who he was usually so patient with, and normally insulted much less than anyone else.

Harry finally found him alone on the train ride home, "You okay Malfoy?"

"My name is Draco," Malfoy said sulkily, "and no I'm not. Why did Severus do it? He warned me about Father, and is even going to lie for me. He's Father's friend."

"He's your godfather," Harry pointed out. "Maybe it's because he loves you." Malfoy looked skeptical. "Hey, I found out who Riddle is."

"Who?" Malfoy looked interested for the first time in days.

Harry smirked, "He was a half-blood, muggle father and witch mother." Malfoy sneered. "He goes by another name now, Voldemort." Malfoy's mouth dropped open and Harry did the same trick of spelling out his name with fiery letters and making them dance around and rearrange. "You might want to tell your dad."

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	22. Chapter 22

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**Chapter Twenty-Two**

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The post came a little earlier than usual for Harry about halfway through the summer. The owl was only slightly familiar, and Harry realized why when he unrolled the scroll it held. He had seen the owl before, but never received anything from it.

_Harry,_

_I told my father. He didn't believe me at first, but he looked into it. He was spitting mad for weeks, even worse than he was at you for freeing Dobby and rescuing the Weaslette. Mother and I spent the time in France, far away from his raging. That's done now, and I suspect he's rethinking a few things._

_Anyway, Quidditch practice at Malfoy Manor, tomorrow, ten in the morning. Bring your broom and let your parents know you won't be back until dinner. If your father insists bring an emergency Portkey._

_Draco_

Harry read the letter twice, wondering when Draco Malfoy had decided that they were friends. True, they had spent a lot of time together that year, but they had spent the year before trying the curse each other into oblivion.

"Harry!" Sirius called up the stairs. "Neville's here!"

Sirius never needed a Sonorous Charm. His lungs were more than adequate uncharmed. Harry left the parchment on his desk, scribbled a quick note that he would be there, and sent it off with Malfoy's owl, who was clearly waiting for a reply. He headed down the stairs and saw Neville giving Sirius a wary look.

"Hey Nev," Harry grinned. He had apologized to his friend more than his family for his little trip into the Chamber of Secrets, mostly for going without him.

"Harry," Neville looked relieved. He looked over at Sirius suspiciously, who was whistling and rocking on his feet, "He's up to something."

"Why would you say that?" Sirius pouted and tried to look hurt.

Harry tried to raise just one eyebrow. He would get that down if he had to practice in front of a mirror, "You're always up to something Siri. Neville was merely stating the obvious."

Sirius yelled after them as they went up the stairs to Harry's room. Neville produced a scroll from his pocket and passed it to Harry, "Is this a joke?"

It was another letter from Malfoy, and was longer than the one to Harry. He read it carefully, and saw that Malfoy didn't exactly apologize for tormenting Neville, but insinuated such. He also asked for information on why Harry had freaked out when he was trapped in the closet. Harry sighed.

"It's not a joke," Harry said as he handed it back. "Tell him as much as you feel comfortable with. He had a strange year." Neville raised his eyebrows in confusion. "His dad was responsible for everything that happened, and he knows it, and wasn't too happy about it all, no matter what he said."

"Defense mechanism," Neville nodded. They had both heard the term applied to their behavior enough. "He tried to deny he doubted his father."

Harry smiled wanly at his almost brother. They laid side by side on Harry's bed and stared up at the canopy. Harry grinned, "Want to go swimming?"

"So long as you actually surface once in a while," Neville allowed.

Harry tossed a set of trunks to Neville and they both changed. Harry yelled to his siblings as they grabbed towels and left the room. Soon there were five sets of feet following them. It was hard to believe the twins were a year old. They could only say a few words, but were walking proficiently and followed their older siblings everywhere they could.

Neville scooped up Ryan and Harry swung Rowan into the air. Harry's mother spotted the group headed for the lake and rushed after them, to make sure the twins were properly looked after. They spent the rest of the day splashing, playing in the mud at the side of the lake, swinging on the rope to jump into the water, and basking in the sun.

Harry waited until the next morning to announce his plans for the day, "I have quidditch practice today, since none of us graduated. I'll be back for dinner."

He was almost to the Floo before his father stopped him, "Hold it young man. Where is this practice?"

"Malfoy Manor," Harry said brightly, but cursed to himself. "See ya!"

He had the Floo powder in hand before his father got to the room and put out the fire with a flick of his wand. Remus and Harry's mum had discovered a way to protect the fireplace from elemental fire after an incident where Harry got hold of Floo powder when he was four.

James Potter looked at his son sternly, "Did you say Malfoy Manor?" Harry nodded. "No, absolutely not. I forbid it."

"James," Harry's mother cautioned from the edge of the room, one twin holding onto each leg. "Let him go."

"But Lily," James pleaded, "_Malfoy Manor!_"

"And we know where he'll be," Lily said firmly. "We've been teaching him to defend himself for years. He can best three of us at once, and has taken on Voldemort at school twice now. Send him with a Portkey and he'll be fine."

James Potter grumbled but gave in. He created a Portkey out of a pendant of the Potter crest and hung it around Harry's neck, "The trigger word is 'Marauders'. I doubt that will come up there. Be careful."

"I will Dad," Harry grinned and hugged his father.

He had gotten another adult conference scolding about asking for help when he needed it and taking rash actions. They had also discussed keeping secrets, like that he was a Parselmouth. Harry had essentially been grounded for a week. He had to spend the week helping Remus teach his siblings, which he didn't really mind, and the elves were forbidden from cleaning up after Harry for the week.

His parents were trying their hardest to counter Dumbledore's tendency to urge Harry into dangerous situations, and then reward him for breaking the rules. They had told him as much plainly.

Harry Floo'd to Malfoy Manor and landed in their parlor, which was dramatically different from the one at Potter Manor. Harry's mother had probably taken him and his siblings to every museum in London, and that was what this room felt like. It was like if he touched anything alarms would go off.

Harry cast a cleaning charm to rid himself of the accumulated soot from Floo travel. Something told him dusting himself off where he stood would be inappropriate.

"Mr. Potter," Harry turned and saw Draco's father.

It had occurred to Harry, as it had obviously occurred to his father, that there was the possibility that Lucius Malfoy had told his son to invite Harry over in order to exact revenge, but that wouldn't be a very Slytherin move.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry tilted his head just a fraction, like Snape had at that ill fated dueling club, "thank you for having me in your home."

"I am interested Harry," Malfoy sat on an immaculate white sofa and draped his wand arm over the back. The folds of his robes settled around him perfectly, as if he was posing for a portrait. Harry kept his wand hand free, the other holding his broom. "How is it that you learned such personal information about the Dark Lord?"

"Draco did not tell you?" Harry questioned with a straight face. Malfoy's slight shake of head answered him. "Riddle told me."

"The Dark Lord just told you?" Malfoy looked truly interested, but it could have been an act. He did survive as a prominent Death Eater for many years and had to have good acting skills.

"Not Voldemort," Harry corrected, enjoying the slight flinch, "Not precisely, but Tom Riddle. His sixteen-year-old self was almost fully corporeal."

"And how did you escape from a basilisk and a sixteen-year-old destined to become the most powerful dark wizard of this century?" Malfoy interrogated him.

Harry smirked, "A bird and a hat helped me." Malfoy blinked. "Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, blinded the basilisk, allowing me to fight it. I pulled Gryffindor's sword out of the sorting hat and stabbed the basilisk through its mouth. One of the fangs broke off in my arm, Fawkes healed me, and I used the fang to destroy the diary, which destroyed Riddle."

"Most impressive Harry," Malfoy looked on him in something approaching approval. "I am still not pleased with your little trick with the sock."

"Who would want a servant that goes behind their back to warn the enemy? Really, you are better off without him," Harry said with a small smile.

Malfoy stood and smirked as well, "Perhaps all he did was on my orders."

Harry considered for a moment. Was that all an elaborate way to test him, with results either way that would benefit Malfoy? If that was the case, did it backfire on Malfoy, or was he pleased? "If so, I imagine you need more to occupy your time with sir."

Malfoy laughed quietly, "I will be following your progress Harry. Tell me, why did you feel it safe to use a cleaning charm? Breaking the Decree on Underage Wizardry can result in expulsion."

"Two reasons sir," Harry explained, though he would leave out the third. "One, Draco knows far too much magic to have been subject to the Decree here. I can only conclude that you have wards which block the Ministry sensors. Two, I am Harry Potter. Would the Ministry truly expel me?"

"Draco will be down shortly, and the rest of the team should be coming through at any moment," Malfoy informed him. "I will trust you not to damage my property. If you have any needs you may summon an elf."

"Thank you sir," Harry tilted his head again.

As the room felt like a museum Harry treated it like one. He walked around looking at the magical artifacts on display, some of which certainly would have made an excellent addition to a museum. A few had the vague feel of darkness about them, and Harry wondered if they were removed for visits from Ministry officials... and if so why they were there for him.

"Harry," the smile in Draco's voice could be heard across the room.

Harry turned, "Does your father make people wait here to intimidate them, or is that just a fringe benefit?"

"Nothing Father does is accidental," Draco smirked.

Harry nodded slowly, and though he kept his face blank he could feel his eyes sparkling, "He would not find being compared to Dumbledore favorable?"

Draco started laughing, a freer laugh than Harry had seen from him, "Oh please do, and make sure I get to watch."

The day was thoroughly enjoyable. Flint was not nearly demanding as he usually was at Hogwarts practices, and they switched around positions, trying out each player in each spot. Harry found he was a decent beater, and a terrible keeper. He had more of a single minded focus and had trouble blocking all three goals. Draco was the only other one who made a good seeker.

Over lunch they discussed Ministry politics. Not one of them had a favorable opinion of Minister Fudge. It was generally agreed that a flying monkey would make a better Minister than Cornelius Fudge.

Narcissa Malfoy came out to see them just as lunch was ending and greeted them all, saving Harry for last, "and how does my wayward cousin?"

"Oh, we just about have him paper trained," Harry said with a straight face, just to see her reaction. The edges of her lips quivered, as though she was fighting a smile at Sirius's expense. "He did comment the other day that out of all his family members at least you have never tried to kill him."

"It is nice to be remembered fondly," Narcissa responded dryly.

"Oh, from Sirius that's a compliment," Harry finally let his grin out. "He claims almost daily that my father is trying to kill him, but that may be because he assigned him to train your niece."

Narcissa's eyes did widen slightly at that, "That menace will be an Auror?"

"Yes," Harry couldn't help the little laugh. The stories about Nymphadora Tonks were many and all amusing, "I'm not sure which side to feel sorry for. Sirius came home with green furry spots on his skin the other day because she tripped over a chair in his office and was cursing as she fell, and forgot she was holding her wand."

The rest of the quidditch team laughed at that and Narcissa let her smile form. Harry wondered if he had just gone through another test. The rest of the day was spent in the air. As his teammates, with the exception of Draco who for some reason was wearing long trousers and long sleeves, both black, removed their shirts for the rest of practice Harry felt free to do the same.

When he landed he bent and pressed him palms to the ground, then flexed his elbows, keeping his legs perfectly straight.

"Ouch," Harry heard a comment behind him.

"That's nothing," Flint commented. "Show them what I caught Potter."

"Oh _that _was nothing. I had just started that segment," Harry said. "This is a bit more interesting."

Harry concentrated on his breathing, and put his feet at shoulder width apart. He stood up and bent over backwards, walking his hands to his feet. With his legs and arms straight, he raised his legs first perpendicular to the ground, then above his head, spread his legs into a split, and brought his legs down and rotated his torso so it was as if he was sitting a few inches above the ground.

He grinned at his teammates, some of whom were gaping while others had expressions of pain. There was at least one whistle.

"No magic?" Draco asked with a little skepticism.

Harry shook his head, "Mum discovered yoga about... seven years ago now. She would bring Brie and me to classes with her. After Alex was born we kept learning, but by book and video."

"Video?" Bole, one of the beaters, asked him.

Harry laughed and flexed his elbows to lower himself to the ground, "You clearly don't take Muggle Studies. Video is muggle moving pictures. If you really want to see I'll have to convince my father to open the Floo for you, or you can go to a cinema in muggle London."

"You have a closed Floo?" Montague asked.

"Yeah," Harry put his legs in front of him and leaned forward to grab his toes and bend his arms to stretch his back and hamstrings. "Mad-Eye Moody was Dad's mentor. I'm lucky I don't have an Auror permanently assigned as my personal shadow."

Harry made a note to himself not to bring up Mad-Eye Moody in the company of his fellow Slytherins again. The gruff old Auror was probably responsible for half of his friends having family members in Azkaban. Luckily, someone changed the topic and Harry jogged over to the pile of clothing to retrieve his shirt. He cast a cleaning charm on himself and pulled the shirt over his head.

When he got back home his father was waiting in the parlor, clearly with an eye on the fireplace. Harry took off the portkey and tossed it to him, "Can we talk Dad?"

James Potter caught the pendant easily and nodded, then led his son to his home office. Wards automatically flared to life when the door shut and James conjured up two cups of juice. Harry was glad for the cool drink rather than tea. He needed to replace water, not drain more out, and tea was a diuretic.

"You still have trouble with me being in Slytherin," Harry said flatly.

The pause before James said anything was answer enough. The Auror fingered the pendant Portkey and cancelled the spell on it, "I worry about you Harry. You just spent the day at the home of a former Death Eater, a man whose master you were responsible for eliminating."

"A man who now knows his master was a half-blood," Harry finished. James Potter cocked an eyebrow at his son. "Is it that I got sorted into Slytherin while you and your father argued with the sorting hat to put you in Gryffindor, or is it that half my Housemates are the children of former Death Eaters?"

"How did you know about that?" James was a little pale. Harry guessed he had never told anyone about his sorting.

"The hat told me at my sorting," Harry told his father. "I didn't have a chance to argue with it, and I'm glad I didn't." James looked at his son attentively. "This year the whole school turned on me with the exception of the Slytherins and a handful of Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and most of the Gryffindors all thought _I_ was the one attacking students and it only got worse when I slipped and talked to that snake.

"The Slytherins knew the claim was ridiculous. They even assigned Draco Malfoy to follow me around constantly after that closet incident. I hate to think what the year would have been like if I was in Gryffindor, the same House as one of the boys who attacked me," Harry looked his father directly in the eye while he talked.

Harry always felt somewhat disconnected from his father. His job kept him at the Ministry much more than at home, and early on there had been the stress of training Harry to control his magic. He almost felt like Remus and Sirius had been more father-like than his father, and then always felt guilty for feeling that.

His father looked guilty then as well, "I'm sorry Harry, if I seem overprotective. The night Voldemort attacked us he trapped me inside my body. I could see and hear everything that happened." Harry listened silently and closely. His parents had told him about that night, but never in such detail, and never about what happened to them. It had always focused on him.

"I saw the killing curse leave his wand, and I saw it hit you. That was the worst moment of my life. Then I saw it bounce back, and everything exploded," Harry's father took a deep breath. "I was flung down the stairs, and the last thing I remember before I lost consciousness was hearing you cry, and extreme relief that you were still alive."

Harry felt that his eyes were moist, and saw that his father had silent tears falling.

"Dad," Harry decided to just forge ahead, "why did he come after us? Why me? What made the curse bounce?"

James smiled wryly, "Part of me wished you would never ask that question, or ever need to ask. We agreed that we would wait to tell you, that when you asked you would probably be ready to hear it all."

Harry was transfixed. He would get answers and learn why his life had been so very different from that of any other young wizard.

"Can you wait a few days Harry?" his father asked. "We have to get ready to tell you, and find a night that works."

"Another adults and Harry conference?" Harry asked with a little laugh.

"We seem to have a lot of those," James smiled.

Harry let his smile get bigger, "Well if people would just stop trying to kill me!"

They both laughed and Harry hugged his father. James cast refreshing spells on both their faces before they went out to join the rest of the family for dinner.

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	23. Chapter 23

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**Chapter Twenty-Three**

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"The Longbottoms are coming to dinner tonight," Lily told the Potter children at breakfast. James was already at the Ministry, and the full moon was the night before. Remus wouldn't be back at the Manor until later that day. "And Harry is in charge of lessons today."

"In that case," Harry gave his siblings a devilish grin, which made them all look at him in dread, "lessons are outside today."

"Yes!" Alex exclaimed and high-fived Ian.

"What do you plan on teaching today?" Lily Potter asked her son.

Harry smiled at his mother, "Well, since Alex is seven and Ian is six, I think it's time they learned to fly. Brie can help me."

His little brothers immediately started celebrating. If they were anything like Harry they had been begging for flying lessons for at least a year now. Remus wasn't overly fond of flying, so he left those lessons to James and Sirius, who had been much busier at the Ministry in the past few years. Harry had found out that flying lessons had already been delayed twice when his brothers started complaining to him not even an hour after he got home.

The instant breakfast was over Alex and Ian ran upstairs to get changed, Brie following at a slightly slower speed. Harry helped his mother clean up the twins, who were wearing more of their food than they had eaten.

"What are you doing today?" Harry asked his mother. Rowan and Ryan started pushing at each other for more lap space with their mother.

She smiled at her oldest son, but Harry saw something in her eyes. She wasn't entirely pleased with whatever it was she would be doing, "I've been learning some new spells lately, and I'll share it with you later."

"Mum," Harry sat down and pulled Rowan into his lap. His little sister started playing with his shirt, "does it have something to do with Voldemort?"

"Yes Harry," Lily Potter gave her son a warning look, "it does, and you have to wait to hear the rest."

Harry nodded. Learning to control his magic had also instilled a good amount of patience in the young wizard. Having five younger siblings certainly contributed, especially when he was put in charge of them. He put Rowan down on the floor as his brothers and sister came into the room wearing shorts and cotton shirts.

"Good luck," Lily Potter called after them, and Harry wondered which pair of them it was directed at.

They grabbed brooms from the mudroom and went outside, where Harry assigned Brie to work with Alex while he took care of Ian. A few scrapes, Brie soaked from head to toe, lunch on the grass, and many bruises later, Harry found an admiration for Madame Hooch that he never expected.

"Um Harry?" Harry opened his eyes to see Neville standing above him.

"Ya?" Harry closed his eyes again and stretched. He had collapsed on one of the sofas in the living room. The stairs had seemed far too much effort.

"It's dinner time," Neville said leadingly. "Isn't it a bit early to be sleeping?"

"I was teaching Alex and Ian how to fly," Harry explained with a yawn. He pushed himself up to sit and Neville flopped next to him. "Brie is good, but she can't really coordinate wand and broom. Her levitation spells aren't as good as mine either, and Ian does _not_ belong on a broom."

"He's not as bad as me," Neville stated, firm in the belief that only muggles were as bad at flying as he was.

Harry smiled, "No one's as bad as you Nev. I'm starved."

"Good, 'cause your mum said if you're not at the table in five minutes your meal is up for grabs," Neville grinned as Harry shot off the couch and towards the dining room, following at a casual pace. He had exaggerated just a bit. Lily was going to have the elves keep his food under a warming spell for later if he was too tired to eat.

"Brie," James Potter called for the attention of his oldest daughter. "You're in charge of your younger siblings tonight. The rest of us will be in the training room if there's any trouble."

Brie blinked at them and looked like she was going to ask what was going on, but the looks that the six adults sported probably changed her mind. Sirius wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it on the table, "Well, I seem to be the last done."

"When aren't you Padfoot?" James teased. No matter how grave the situation was, a Marauder was always a Marauder.

"Are you implying something Prongs?" Sirius pouted.

"Only that the house elves never are at a lack for work while you're around Paddy," Remus joined in the fun.

Sirius's pout deepened, "You're all against me."

Alice was sitting next to him and she reached up to pat his head, "Aw, do you need to be put to bed early? Some warm milk and a story will turn that frown upside down."

Across the table, Frank, Neville, and Harry started snickering. Brie was grinning as she herded the younger Potters into the living room where she could just put in a movie to keep them in one place, at least two of them. Rowan and Ryan were a little young for that still.

Sirius took out his wand and pointed it around the table, "Okay, next one to insult me gets a tail."

"What's the rule?" Lily prompted.

Like scolded children, the Marauders, Longbottoms, and two twelve year olds responded in chorus, "No hexes at the table."

"That's right," Lily held her own wand casually pointed at Sirius, "so put that away before I take it from you. You wouldn't want to explain to Amelia tomorrow morning that your wand was taken for bad behavior would you?"

The rest of the table was snickering again. Amelia Bones was the Head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and therefore the overall boss for James, Sirius, Frank, and Alice, though James was the immediate boss for the other three. More than once James and Sirius had been beyond mortified to show up at work sans wands because they didn't listen to Lily.

"Everyone upstairs," Lily put her wand away once Sirius had tucked his in his holster and she clapped her hands for the house elves to clean up after the meal.

"Okay," Harry said once they were all ensconced on sofas and chairs in the training room, "I take it that the reason Voldemort came after me has something to do with Neville as well?"

The adults all nodded, and Alice took the floor. She was the shortest of the adults, but the fastest draw. She had been in the running with James for the Head Auror position but had requested to be removed from the list because of the paperwork involved. Alice had always hated paperwork with a passion.

"There was a prophecy made before the two of you were born that foretold the birth of someone who would have the power to destroy Voldemort," Alice explained methodically. She was also a Team Leader and briefed groups of Aurors on their assignments on a regular business.

"The prophecy stated: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives._"

"So it's... one of us?" Neville asked a little uncertainly, motioning to himself and Harry.

Harry brushed back his fringe and traced his scar, "He already marked me Nev."

"That's what we think too," James said tensely. He did not like talking about the prophecy, about the chance, almost certain chance that his son would have to fight Voldemort again, and one of them would die. "Dumbledore agrees."

"Dumbledore knows?" Harry asked, though the answer was apparent, "Who else?"

"Just the people in this room and Albus know the entire wording," Frank told them. "Albus was the recipient of the prophecy initially, and he was in the Hog's Head at the time. The first part was overhead by a Death Eater, so we can assume that the majority of them, and Voldemort, all know that much. He was kicked out of the bar before he could hear the rest. Albus knew that Lily and Alice were both pregnant, and due at the end of July, and told the four of us."

"Did you tell...," Harry looked at his parents and felt his whole demeanor darken, "Wormtail?"

Harry wasn't the only one who was looking almost murderous at the mention of the man who had been a trusted friend and turned on them. His mother put a calming hand on her husband's arm, "No Harry, he doesn't know."

"Siri and I only heard it after the attack on the Longbottoms," Remus said softly, the first to regain his composure.

"Okay," Harry was trying to take it all in.

He had to kill or be killed, and now he knew why his parents had gotten the exemption from the underage magic laws for him, and why they were convinced Voldemort would be back. He had to come back for one of them to die.

"We know at least one power I have that he doesn't," Harry continued. "I mean, if he had elemental powers he would have used them, and the whole world would know. What are the chances that Dumbledore hasn't told you the entire thing?"

The adults all just blinked for a minute, as though they hadn't even considered the possibility. Harry was yet again thankful he was sorted into Slytherin. He would never blindly trust anyone.

His mother seemed to be thinking, then shook her head, "No. I don't think he withheld anything. He showed us the incident in a pensieve, and not even Albus can alter a pensieve memory that well."

"How much do _they _know?" Neville asked the adults. He was only slightly calmer than Harry.

"Only that someone would be born who could vanquish him, and when and to whom," Frank moved to sit next to his son and put an arm around his shoulders.

"So he doesn't know about the marking part, or the power he doesn't have part, or the," Neville looked over to Harry, who had closed his eyes and was concentrating on his magic, "one or the other part, right?" The adults all nodded. "So for all he know it refers to me and not Harry, right?"

"The general assumption is that Harry is the subject of the prophecy," Sirius said darkly. "The attack on your family was unrelated according to the Lestranges. They thought your parents had information on where Voldemort was hiding."

Alice snorted, "Like anyone knew. I personally think he didn't even know then, too messed up from the rebounded curse or he would have gone straight to his followers."

"So," Harry opened his eyes again. He had himself under control, though he had a fire burning steadily in a large fireplace in the room and was keeping the air cool, "I have to fight him and kill him, or he'll kill me."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. None of the adults were willing to tell a twelve year old that he was destined to kill or be killed. Harry shook his head sadly. This was why they had been training him since he could remember, and they couldn't even admit it to him.

"When Frank and I were hiding we worked on a branch of magic that we'll now be teaching the two of you," Alice said, looking both boys in the eye. "Have either of you heard of Occlumency?"

Harry and Neville both nodded and Remus spoke up, "I made sure they knew what it was, but not how to actually use it." He turned to Harry and Neville. "The rest of us have already learned Occlumency, though Alice, Frank, and Lily are the only ones that learned Legilimency. Lily will be your main teacher for this."

She looked uncomfortable and Harry caught her eye. She nodded, "That's what I've been brushing up on for the past week." She gave her husband a little smile, "You do not want to know what your father thinks about."

The other Marauders snickered as James turned red, and tried to get the attention away from himself, "So, we'll be getting started tonight, or you will. The four of us have to work."

Frank and Alice hugged both boys tightly, followed by James and Sirius, before the four of them headed out the door so they could apparate to the Ministry.

"This is to make sure no one can find out the prophecy, right?" Harry asked his mother and Remus. They both nodded. "But if he finds out the rest of it, won't Neville be safer?"

"You think I'm letting you fight without me to help you?" Neville asked Harry with a little squeak in his voice. "Well you can forget it. What do you think we swore if not to be there for each other?"

Harry frowned, "You're trying to protect me, and I'm doing the same for you. I have to fight him. You don't."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Remus broke in and fixed them both with a steady gaze. "He's still wandering around in spirit form. Wait until something happens before you make any decisions."

Harry agreed reluctantly. It had been extremely rare to face Voldemort and come out alive. That was one reason his father and mother, and Neville's parents, were so respected, and Sirius too. They had all dueled with him and lived.

"I'll be taking Neville, and Lily will work with Harry," Remus instructed, taking on teaching mode. "Harry, many of the techniques we used to teach you control are used to begin learning Occlumency, so you're ahead of Neville there."

Both boys nodded and they separated to opposite ends of the room. Lily cast a barrier which would prevent any distractions from the other pair as they worked.

"Harry," his mother began with obvious discomfort, "this is not going to be easy, or enjoyable. In order to teach you to shield your mind, I have to try to break into it and you have to try to keep me out. At first you'll be able to stop me by casting hexes and curses so that I have to stop my spell to defend against yours, and eventually you'll be able to keep anyone out without even thinking about it."

"Mum," Harry knew his mother was hesitating and didn't want her to hold back because she didn't want to hurt him, "if you don't want to do this I can wait for Alice or Frank."

She looked like she was considering it, "No. They just don't have the time. Harry... there's been an increase in dark activity, not attacks or anything like that, but just more darkness."

"It's already starting isn't it?" Harry tried to keep his mother from seeing the fear he felt. "We know he's trying to come back already. He's stopped hiding and nursing his wounds."

"We think so," Lily nodded.

"Then we better get started," Harry braced himself and tried to be brave. "We need to be ready."

Lily smiled fondly, and a little sadly if Harry wasn't mistaken, "Sometimes you are so like your father."

Harry felt pride welling up inside him. He had heard that often when he was little, especially since he looked just like his father, but it had been said less and less since he started at Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin.

"Okay," Lily said, "I'm going to start by probing for good memories." Harry readied his wand and looked his mother in the eye. _Legilimens!_

_Harry was souring the air, arm out, the snitch was his! He was underwater and a fish swam by, then, another, a whole school of them, and they didn't mind that he was there. They brushed against his skin and their scales were soft. _

_Fred held Harry's arms while George tickled him and Harry kicked his legs. _

_Brie tackled Harry on Christmas morning and hugged him, thanking him for her present. _

_Ian and Alex collided with Harry when he got home from Hogwarts and hugged him as hard as they could. _

_Harry saw the Potter twins for the first time._

His mother was smiling, and Harry felt a grin on his face, "Okay that didn't work Harry. Why?"

"I didn't fight back," Harry said a bit sheepishly. "They were memories that I liked, that I didn't mind you seeing." He focused and remembered what Remus said before they split up. The exercises used to teach Harry to control himself were used to teach Occlumency. He centered himself and nodded at his mother, "I'll try to push you out this time. Let's go again."

_Legilimens!_

_Padfoot came racing toward him and they fell to the ground together, wrestling. They rolled and Harry was covered in grass stains. _

_Harry got his very first Hogwarts letter and waved it in the air._

_Protego!_

_The infant was handed to her, and James smiled as he leaned down to kiss her, 'He's beautiful honey.'_

He was forced out of the memory and pain lanced across his head. Harry shook his head and leaned over, his hands on his legs to brace himself. It was tiring, trying to protect his mind, "Was that me?"

"Yes," His mother was smiling, her mind clearly back in the time of his birth. She took a deep breath and looked at Harry, "Better. Try to keep your mind clear. Once you know how to block completely you'll also be able to feed images to your attacker."

"Can I create images to use, or do they have to be memories?" Harry asked, already thinking ahead to how it might be useful, maybe not letting someone know he could shield, and when he knew what they were looking for, manipulate the image.

Lily smoothed her robes. She had stumbled back when Harry blocked her probe, "It's much easier to use real memories. A truly skilled Legilimens can know the difference between a true memory and a false one."

Harry nodded and stood. He tried to focus his mind on just one thing. He thought of the sun shining through the surface of the lake, "Okay."

_Legilimens!_

_He was running across the grounds, wind and sun kissing every inch of skin. The sun shone through the water. _

_He was drinking hot chocolate and eating popcorn with Brie, Ian and Alex while they watched The Wizard of Oz, all of them leaning together on the floor in front of the couch while their dad leaned down and stole some popcorn. _

_The sun shining through the water..._

_Expelliarmus!_

_A little boy had a protective arm wrapped around a little girl as they both slept on a small blanket on the grass, the sun shining down on them._

Harry found he was able to carefully pull out of the memory, though he wasn't sure how it worked. The room came into focus and he saw his mother on the floor, head down.

"Mum!"

Lily Potter looked up and saw Harry hurrying towards her. He held out a hand and she accepted his help up. She smiled proudly, "I'm okay Harry. You've got a big punch behind those disarming charms."

"Lily!" They both turned to see Sirius, out of breath and dirty with a cut over one eye. "Keep everyone in the house tonight, Neville included. I'll let Frank and Alice know in a minute."

"What happened Sirius?" Harry stepped forward as his mother took down the barrier and interrupted Remus and Neville.

"Peter," Sirius ground his teeth as his answered, his eyes deadly.

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	24. Chapter 24

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**Chapter Twenty-Four**

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"Why are we here?" Tonks asked Sirius in a hushed voice.

The metamorphmagus ability of his cousin was both handy and frustrating, as she had a tendency to pick the most outlandish colors for her hair or eyes _and_ it contributed to her overall clumsiness.

"This bar is frequented by people who don't want to be found, both magic and muggle. I come here on a regular basis, always in the same disguise, and appear to mind my own business. There are a few customers who we know about but don't have any proof. They know it, and feed us information to keep us from digging too far."

"Okay, so what do I do?" Tonks shifted uncomfortably.

"Act dumb," Sirius grinned, "and don't talk unless I ask you something."

Tonks nodded, "Got it, dumb blonde routine."

"That's right," Sirius held the door open for her and she waited just inside for him. She had blonde hair in a pixie cut, and clothes that left nothing to the imagination. As they walked in she proceeded to trip, drop her purse, and bend down to pick it up, giving the entire bar a spectacular view. She giggled and pressed her face into his shoulder as if she was embarrassed.

Sirius just put one hand on her waist and propelled her to the bar. She was a little _too_ good at this.

"Nice," the man he sat next to commented, "new girl Fenrik?"

Sirius nodded, "Hey Danu, this is Nymph. Nymph, say hi to Danu."

Tonks giggled and gave him a little wave, "Hi." She started playing with an earring and crossed her legs.

"Andy," Sirius signaled the barkeeper. He slapped a few Galleons into the man's hand, "a round of whiskeys, the kind that lights a fire in your throat, and keep 'em comin'."

"Got it big man," Andy the barkeeper said in a gravelly voice. He poured three whiskeys with obvious skill and handed them out.

Sirius threw back his first, and slapped the shot cup down on the bar for another. The man next to him laughed, "No one can drink like you Fen!"

"Tell me Dan," Sirius laughed heartily and took another shot, "what you been up to lately?"

Tonks drank her own shot and flashed another smile at the man. Sirius tugged at her waist and she put both hands on his shoulder and simpered.

"Mostly delivering for a few shops with less than reputable customers," 'Danu' said and signaled for another shot. He drank it down and coughed. Sirius was already on his fourth. "There was one fellow, short, nervous, balding, reminded me of someone you showed me once."

Sirius pulled a muggle wallet out of his back pocket and opened it to show some frozen wizard pictures, "Must 'ave been me cousin Paul. This is when we was kids a'course."

"Yeah," 'Danu' leaned forward and squinted at the picture, "yeah, that's the guy. Less hair now, a bit thinner, but that's him alright."

Sirius roared with laughter and slapped 'Danu' on the back, "So tell me how old Paul is doing. I haven't seen him in years. What's he up to?"

'Danu' suddenly looked uncomfortable, "I just delivered some books..."

"How'd you like ta drop in on me cous, sugar?" Sirius turned to her and squeezed. He sounded jovial but his eyes were hard as ice.

Tonks giggled, "Sounds fun!"

Sirius took out some muggle money and set it on the bar, then put the wallet away. He grabbed 'Danu's arm and pulled the man outside with them and into an alley. There, he shoved the man against a wall and pointed his wand at his throat.

"Tell me where he is, or you'll never be able to tell anyone anything ever again," Sirius half-growled at the man. Sirius didn't look at her but he spoke to Tonks anyway, "Change into something decent Nymph."

Tonks waved her wand and her clothing expanded to cover more of her body, "Keep calling me Nymph and I'll turn more than your hair green."

Sirius snorted, but her wand joined his. He scowled at 'Danu', "Talk."

"He... he's got a cottage... in the woods... I apparated... I don't know exactly where it is...," 'Danu' stuttered with his eyes wide.

"Then you'll have to show us," Sirius grinned, but the look held no humor, "and if you even think of warning him, you'll find yourself in Azkaban faster than you can say 'quidditch'."

Sirius and Tonks followed the man's apparition to just outside a clearing. The trees were scraggly and the cottage didn't look like much. A thin trail of smoke rose from a crumbling chimney and Sirius wished a chimney fire would start and burn the rat out. It would be useful to have Harry around right about then, but James would never in a million years approve of using his son in the field.

"Get the hell out of here, talk to no one," Sirius ordered 'Danu'. "I'll see you in a week or so."

The man nodded nervously and disappeared with a 'crack'.

"Why did you let him go?" Tonks asked curiously, reverting to her usual appearance, but with pitch black short hair. "You could have brought him in on illegal trading, withholding information..."

"His crimes are insignificant compared to the information he provides," Sirius lectured quietly. "Do you know who is inside that cottage?"

Tonks shook her head.

"Peter Pettigrew," Sirius hissed. "You will stay here, in case he has proximity wards in place. When I start casting you can join in." With that Sirius transformed and sniffed the ground, and then the air.

The scent was familiar, one he had smelled many times before... the rat... the traitor... Wormtail. With a deep growl he started slinking towards the cottage, resisting the instinct to charge in and rip the rat to pieces.

When he transformed and gripped his wand a blaring screech pierced the silence. Sirius cursed and cast a disillusionment charm on himself, motioning for Tonks to do the same.

With a bright flash Sirius blasted the door in, ignoring the chunks that flew in his direction, and Tonks shot a barrage of spells inside to cover him. He threw a vial inside that shattered and filled the cottage with smoke. Sirius dove in and rolled, his wand out, and scanned the area.

"You're too late Padfoot," Wormtail's voice faded as he was pulled into a Portkey. Sirius ran towards him, but his hand gripped empty air and he cursed loudly.

"Sirius," Tonks's voice called out.

Sirius swore again and turned towards his cousin, "Don't touch anything. He was a Marauder once."

"I think you should see this," Tonks said in a shaky voice.

Sirius walked over to her and looked down at a table with open books and the ink still wet on the parchment. The books were on necromancy and resurrection, the darkest magic Sirius could imagine. The parchment had notes on a dozen rituals, all aimed to bring back the dark lord. What chilled Sirius to the bone was written on the lowest portion.

_Requires blood sacrifice – strongest option – Harry_

"Don't touch any of it," Sirius said again. "Secure the clearing and make sure your emergency Portkey is ready if he comes back. I'll send a squad here. Stay outside. I don't trust anything that traitor has touched."

Sirius ran outside the cottage. He carefully recorded the coordinates of the cottage's location and took out one of two emergency Portkeys he carried. One took him to the Ministry and the other to his room in Potter Manor.

Sirius, Remus, and the Potters had acknowledged long ago that they might be forced to break the law some day to protect the Potter family, and they would need to be able to hide. Sirius landed in his bedroom with a thump, knowing that James would be on his way after he was alerted that the Portkey had been used.

Remus and Lily were in the training room with Harry and Neville, but the younger kids were downstairs. Sirius ran down the stairs and found them all together thankfully.

"Padfoot!" Alex exclaimed. The boy was a Marauder in the making, just like Brie, whereas Ian had more of his mother in him, was more like Harry.

"All of you stay in this room," Sirius ordered sternly, a tone he had never taken with the Potter children before. He had left that to Remus. "Above all else do not go outside."

"Yes Sirius," three voices chorused as he was already headed back upstairs.

When he reached the training room he could see Remus and Neville at the far end, sitting by a fire and meditating. Harry was helping Lily stand and looking her over with concern.

"Lily!" They both turned to see Sirius, out of breath and dirty with a cut over one eye. "Keep everyone in the house tonight, Neville included. I'll let Frank and Alice know in a minute."

"What happened Sirius?" Harry stepped forward as his mother took down the barrier and interrupted Remus and Neville.

"Peter," Sirius ground his teeth as his answered, his eyes deadly.

"Padfoot," James's voice was frantic. "Where are you?"

"In here," Sirius stepped out of the room and saw James rushing down the hall towards him. He took his best friend's arm and pulled him aside, saying quietly in his ear, "Peter got away again tonight, but left behind a lot. He wants to kill Harry."

James's body shook with anger and Sirius understood completely. James looked him in the eye, and Sirius could only remember seeing that expression in those hazel eyes a few times before, "Get a team to wherever he was. I'm going to make sure the wards here are adequate and then join them. This information I need to see in situ firsthand."

"I'll take the team there and then come back here," Sirius said. "Want me to disable the Floo on my way out?" James nodded and Sirius left for the Ministry.

Tonks was waiting for the team of the Aurors, miraculously not having tripped over anything in Sirius's absence. To her credit she had a strong shield on the clearing and demanded positive identification before she would lower it. When Sirius told her he had changed her diapers and would do it again if she didn't let him in she let down the shield.

It took the team over two hours to determine that the cottage was safe and begin the documentation and inventory of the contents. It would take them all night to complete that task, and then transport everything back to the Ministry where it would be thoroughly examined.

James arrived on the scene after the initial inspection, as the team members were putting stasis charms on a variety of objects and loading them into special evidence boxes so that any prints or magical residue on them would remain intact. At least a dozen traps had to be disarmed, work that Sirius was in charge of because of his familiarity with Peter.

"Sir, take a look at this!" Tambers, an Auror with more years experience than Sirius and James combined, called over to them. "He's got a whole stack of pictures here."

James shivered. He immediately recognized the locations and subject of the pictures. There was Harry on a broom, Harry walking with Rowan holding one hand and Ryan grasping the other, Ian, Alex, and Brie running up behind them, Harry in the garden working with Neville, Harry brushing his hair back to reveal the famous scar, Harry lying on his back in the grass wearing only a pair of shorts, Harry in his Hogwarts uniform, minus robe and tie, with his Gryffindor friends...

"James?" Sirius said softly and James snapped his head to the side. Sirius was standing close, his own eyes determined. "We'll catch him James. That bastard won't get anywhere near Harry."

"I have to let Amelia and the Minister know," James said and brushed his hand over his face. He had been awake for... it had to be over twenty hours by then and he would be up for at least another twelve. Thank Merlin for Pepper-Up. "You're in charge of this investigation Padfoot. Keep me updated."

Sirius nodded, and ignoring the bustling Aurors all around them he pulled his friend into what was probably a much needed hug. The Aurors ignored them, respecting that it was a hard time for their boss. And they would do anything and everything they could to spare their boss and his family any more pain.

James returned to the Ministry at dawn and stared blankly at his desk. The wards at the Manor had been fully activated and his home was now more secure than Buckingham Palace, possibly more secure than Hogwarts. No one could get there by Floo, or Portkey. Only James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Frank, and Alice could apparate in and out, and the Longbottoms could bring Neville. Only James and Lily could take their children through the wards. No post could get through, but was redirected to James at the Ministry. Any post addressed to Harry went right back to whoever had written it.

With a sigh, James took out several sheets of parchment. With no post going through to Harry his friends would all wonder why they were getting their letters back, and Hogwarts would have to send Harry's letter to James. He hated writing a few of the letters as he wanted as little contact with these families as possible. But with Harry in Slytherin, and friends with Slytherins, James was going to have to learn to deal with these people on a more regular basis.

A tap of the wand folded two of the letters into origami birds and sent them towards their respective recipients. James sighed and began to prepare his brief for Amelia and Cornelius. It was only an initial notification that there had been a development in the Pettigrew case.

It was too early to tell them anything more than a hiding place had been discovered, and that it appeared Pettigrew was after Harry. James prepared himself for the possibility that Fudge would suggest James and Sirius not stay involved in the case, due to their personal interest.

Everything went as expected. Fudge threatened to have James removed from the case and Amelia argued that James was her best man to lead up the case. Besides, James would not actually be in the field. Somehow Sirius's name stayed out of it, but James didn't think that would remain the case.

"James," Amelia stopped outside her office. She handed him some Pepper-Up, which he took gratefully. "Take a few days and spend them at home. You and I both know that it will take that long to start forming any conclusions from the mess he left behind. I'll meet with Albus, and coordinate everything. Go be with your family."

"I can't believe Cornelius wants to station dementors around Hogwarts, around children!" James felt like hexing the Minister, and not for the first time.

Amelia nodded grimly, "I know. I agree with you, but I have to be the one to suggest it Albus."

"He'll see right through you and stalk into Cornelius's office to demand an explanation," said James, and a small smile drifted onto his face at the thought of Albus Dumbledore yelling at the Minister of Magic. If only his animagus form was a little less conspicuous. "Okay Amelia, I'll finish up a few things here and go home. Harry will be looking for answers anyway and I think he deserves them."

James left his boss, thankful that while housed in the same building and technically part of the same governing body, the Minister had absolutely no authority over the Department of Law Enforcement. They were responsible to the Wizengamot, and Amelia Bones was a member of that group appointed to oversee Law Enforcement. Cornelius Fudge acted as though he had authority, and Amelia generally appeased him, sometimes acting in a completely different direction behind his back.

"James," Lucius Malfoy was waiting outside his office with parchment in hand, "you asked me to come see you?"

"Yes Lucius," James nodded and opened his office, with Lucius following him inside. "There has been an incident, and I will not elaborate on that, but Harry will no longer be receiving post this summer. Your son can see him at Hogwarts."

"Disapproving of your son's friends?" Lucius looked entertained.

James scowled, never forgetting what this man once was, and probably still was, not to mention what he was responsible for just that school year, "No Lucius. Harry can choose his own friends. I trust my son. No post is going to the Manor for anyone. I'll be telling Arthur Weasley to pass along the same information to his children."

Lucius lifted an eyebrow and James's scowl deepened. Lucius would go poking into this, and Merlin only knew what would happen if he got involved.

"Very well," Lucius answered him lazily, "I will inform Draco. Was there anything else?"

"If Draco could relay the information to their other friends from their House I would appreciate it," James sucked up his pride and made the request.

Lucius stood with a flourish and picked up the cane he carried, "That will not be a problem James. Have a good day." Lucius left and James heard him outside the door. "Arthur. I assume James is ready for you. We wouldn't want you to stand around all day with all the _important_ tasks waiting for you."

James groaned and was in the process of kneading his temples as Arthur poked his head in the door, "James?" James waved him in and Arthur shut the door behind him, "I despise that man."

"Join the club," James looked up and the redhead sat in the same seat Lucius had occupied. He sighed and began his speech all over again, only this time asking that Arthur or one of his children pass the information along to the muggle-born girl that Harry was friends with.

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	25. Chapter 25

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**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Third Year**

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"Harry!" Harry looked up to see Hermione enter his compartment, her arms wrapped around a bundle of ginger colored fur.

She let the ball of fur drop and it hissed and darted to the other end of the compartment and into Neville's lap. He held his hands away and gave Hermione a pleading look as it started to knead his legs and settle in.

Hermione ignored Neville and hugged Harry tightly, "Ron's letter didn't say a thing about why you couldn't get any post, and I couldn't ask you of course."

"To give him the benefit of the doubt he probably had no idea why," Harry snorted.

The last month and a half of his summer had been spent cooped up in the Manor, not even allowed outside to swim. It had been extremely annoying, but it was useful for learning Occlumency. Harry was already able to block most attacks. When his mother, Frank, or Alice pushed really hard they could break through though and give him a splitting headache in the process.

"Who are they?" Hermione asked just as the door opened again.

"Potter," Draco commented, spying the Gryffindors there. Standing behind him were Crabbe and Goyle of course, as well as Maya and Blaise.

Harry smiled at the Slytherins, "Hey. This is my sister Brie. She's a first year."

Brie grinned and waved, then went back to petting the Siamese kitten in her lap. She had opted for a cat to take to Hogwarts rather than an owl, citing that she could always use school owls for post if she needed to, or Hedwig if Harry would let her.

"And this is Professor Lupin."

Remus was asleep, or at least that was what people were supposed to think. He was really just concentrating on smells, making sure Peter didn't get on the train in rat form.

Harry smiled wryly, "Remember when I said I was lucky not to have an Auror shadowing me? I came this close," Harry held his index finger millimeters from his thumb. "Professor Lupin is a friend of my parents. My Dad almost didn't let me come back this year."

"Why?" Draco asked the question they were probably all wondering.

Brie took care of answering for him, with a scowl reminiscent of their father, "Pettigrew."

"I read in the _Prophet_ he was spotted," Hermione said, clearly interested.

"Not just spotted," Harry told them. "If he hadn't had a Portkey Sirius would have had him this time. They think he's after me, thus the wartime wards on the Manor, Professor Lupin, and there are dementors around the school."

Everyone except Hermione shuddered and without waiting for her to ask Draco explained superiorly, "Dementors are soul-suckers. They're also the guards of Azkaban. Just their presence takes away all your happy memories and makes you relive the worst moments of your life."

"And they're stationed around the _school?_" Hermione sounded supremely shocked. Harry had reacted the same way when his father told them, and so had his mother and Remus.

Harry was amused that his Slytherin friends were still standing in the doorway, "You can come in and sit down. Gryffindors don't bite, well most of them anyway." He gave his little sister a teasing look.

"Hey!" Brie protested. "I haven't bitten you since I was two."

"And it bloody hurt. I still have a scar!" Harry replied as Blaise and Maya tentatively sat down. Brie scooted over and leaned against her godfather.

Draco looked back at Crabbe and Goyle, "Inform the others of where we are. We may join you later..."

Harry shook his head, "Can't. I promised Dad I wouldn't leave his sight," Harry gestured to Remus, "until I was inside the Hogwarts wards."

Draco gave Lupin a doubtful look, to which Harry almost laughed. His werewolf uncle looked completely harmless to the unknowing. Draco should have known that looks could be deceiving. After all, Harry had barely grown since his first year but could probably out-duel most of the school and some of the staff.

The blond Slytherin sat next to Harry, keeping Harry between him and any Gryffindors. The conversation was mostly Harry and Neville catching up with Hermione, and Hermione answering Brie's numerous questions.

The door slid open again, and Fred and George entered though there was nowhere for them to sit, "Ah Harry we thought we heard you down here."

Before they could continue the train squealed and came to a stop. Remus was on his feet in an instant, wand in hand, "All of you stay put. I'm going to see why we stopped."

Remus left and Fred and George took his seat, making Brie sit on their laps. She started interrogating them on their latest pranks, wanting to hear every detail. There was no doubt she would be a Gryffindor.

Draco had his arms wrapped around his chest and his hands buried. Neville started shivering and Crookshanks, as Hermione introduced her new cat, yowled and jumped into her lap. Ice began forming on the window and their breath was coming out in little puffs of mist.

"What the hell?" Blaise commented.

Harry stood with his wand out. He focused on the temperature and discovered the whole train was like this, and the air outside was rapidly dropping temperature. Harry had never felt cold in his life, but suddenly there was a chill straight to his bones. Then the lights went out.

"I don't like this," Harry said quietly, mostly to himself, though the others probably heard.

The door cracked open and a figure stumbled in, "Fred? George?"

"We're here Gin-gin," Fred said and reached across Harry to pull his little sister in.

Their compartment door was shadowed by dark robes and started to open. Harry was ready to start questioning Remus, but the figure in the doorway was floating, with no face visible in shadow of a black hooded robe. Harry could hear screaming, and he recognized the voice. His mother screamed like that in his dreams.

Harry fought against it. His mother was safe at home, not on the train screaming. He gathered everything he learned that summer and tried to push out with his mind, but it was slowly growing louder. The last thing Harry heard before his legs gave out was his mother screaming his name.

"Harry," Neville's timid voice, high pitched with anxiety, called out to him, "Harry!"

"Mum?" Harry heard his own voice, but it was like that of a small child, not a thirteen-year-old whose voice had already changed. He could feel the movement of the train again and wondered how long he'd been out.

He heard muffled sobs. Brie and Ginny were crying in the corner, with Hermione and Maya comforting them. Brie saw that Harry's eyes were open and she launched herself at him. Despite his pounding head and lingering chill Harry held her tightly. He saw that Fred and George were gone, probably to check on their brother. Draco was impossible to read and very pale.

"Remus," Harry turned to look at Neville, "uh, Professor Lupin left this for you Harry. We've all already had some."

Neville handed him some chocolate, and with one arm still around Brie Harry took it and nibbled on the corner. Warmth spread through him the instant he swallowed, and Harry ate the rest of the bar.

"Was... was that a...?" Hermione's voice trailed off and Ginny started to quiet.

Draco nodded a bit jerkily, "That was a dementor."

"What happened?" Harry asked, trying to get the rest of them to act with some semblance of normalcy. The tension in the air was getting to him.

"Well," Blaise looked to be the least effected of all of them, "the dementor came in, and you went all stiff. All the happiness was sucked out of the air, and you fell and screamed. Then the professor came back and he told the dementor none of us were hiding Peter Pettigrew under our cloaks, and he shot some silvery stuff at it and it went away. Then he gave us some chocolate and said he'd be back."

Harry nodded as he ate the chocolate, "Did any of the rest of you..."

Blaise looked uncomfortable, and none of them would look at him, "Pass out? No Harry."

The silence that followed was broken by Remus's return, "Harry, have you eaten that chocolate?"

Harry nodded and held up the empty wrapper for his uncle to see, "Yes Professor."

"Good," Remus helped Harry and Brie up off the floor and made sure they got settled on the seats. "We'll be pulling into Hogsmeade shortly. It's time you all got into your robes. I'll be just outside the door."

The girls left to use the bathrooms to change, as Harry still wasn't supposed to leave the compartment. He offered, but Brie had recovered from the dementor and refused to let him go anywhere. Draco and Blaise teased him for taking orders from his little sister and Harry retorted that neither of them could possibly understand, as neither of them had siblings. As usual, Draco already had his shirt and trousers on so he didn't have to change in front of the others.

"Potter!" Draco sounded almost horrified, "How many time do I have to see that?"

Harry pulled on his school trousers and Neville started snickering, "Harry doesn't wear anything under his trousers."

"And he doesn't wear anything in bed either," Draco grumbled.

"And how would you know that?" Blaise said suggestively. He turned to Harry, "I know you've been up to much more than you tell me, but really Harry."

"Hey," Harry smacked Blaise. "I haven't had time for anything like that and I'm only thirteen bloody years old!"

The girls returned before the teasing could go any further, which was good because Neville was turning bright red. They arrived at Hogwarts and Remus pulled Harry aside to warn him that Poppy would be waiting for him once he got to the castle. Harry groaned, but got into a carriage with his sister, uncle, Blaise, and Maya. Tracey joined them just before they started up and let them know that Draco had gone to let the other Slytherins know why Harry had been incommunicado all summer.

"Harry," Poppy bustled over to him as he stepped out of the carriage and started checking him over right there. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Harry gave her an annoyed look. "Remus gave me some chocolate, and I promise to eat more at the feast. Can I go please? I want to see Brie's sorting."

Poppy smiled at Remus, "It's about time we had a decent Defense teacher. Scoot Harry. You come and see me if you feel at all faint or dizzy."

Harry promised and was glad to get away from her. He loved her but she had a tendency to be overbearing. He saw McGonagall leading Hermione away from the hall towards her office and wondered at that. It must be important business to miss part of the opening feast.

The great hall was full of whispers and shivering students, soaked from the rain that hit them between the carriages and the school. Harry did his best to ignore the supposedly discreet glances sent his way. None of those students knew how to be inconspicuous. He hoped that none of them applied for the Auror program. They would be useless if they couldn't learn to be sneakier than that.

"You okay Harry?" the Head Girl for that year, a Slytherin, whispered to him.

Harry nodded and the Slytherins quieted down, dignified, for the sorting. Though he had no doubt concerning Brie's sorting he wanted to watch. He wanted to see the exhilaration on her face as the sorting hat called out 'GRYFFINDOR'.

He was not disappointed. Harry exchanged a private look with Remus as Brie bounced over to the Gryffindor table and hugged both Neville and the twins. They quickly introduced her around the table and Harry saw that she sat next to Ginny Weasley. That was good. After the year before, Ginny could probably use a friend and her roommates would have already settled into their own routine at Hogwarts.

With Riddle in her head all year Ginny had been a loner. Fred and George commented in their letters that she was having nightmares and there was some trouble adjusting. She had also done poorly in her classes and was lucky that the end of year exams were cancelled. All summer was spent catching up on the work she missed.

If Ginny was anything like the twins, which Harry suspected she was, she and Brie would get along famously. Already the dark head and red head were bent together in conversation.

"Watch out for those two," Harry said after applauding the latest addition to Slytherin.

"Hm?" Draco didn't look towards him.

"The Weaslette and my sister," Harry smirked in a bit of anticipation. It was going to be fun watching the chaos they could cause. "They could be better than the twins if they put their minds to it. Brie is the real child of the Marauders."

At that Draco turned his head quickly and shot Harry a slightly worried look, "You're immune though right, and us by extension?"

"Maybe," Harry allowed, thinking it wouldn't be too bad for Draco to be on his toes. "Brie knows exactly what I'm capable of and I never hesitated to retaliate in kind or worse. Besides, she'll likely wait a year before doing anything too bad since Remus is here."

Draco looked slightly relieved and Harry traded amused looks with Blaise. The blond would still be watching everyone around him carefully for fear of getting pulled into a Potter sibling prank war of some sort. He wouldn't have much warning too as Harry wouldn't be the one to start it.

They went back to the Slytherin dungeon for the night and after Snape's welcoming speech Harry renewed the charms on his canopy. He sighed and felt the comfort from the familiar glow of stars above him. With all his wards in place, even though he trusted his roommates far more than he had when he first met them, he was able to fall asleep, his encounter with the dementors somewhere in the far reaches of his mind.

While Occlumency proved useful for shutting away thoughts he did not want to consider, it was inadequate when it came to stopping those thoughts from invading his dreams. Harry's nightmares were worse that night than they had been for years. He woke several times with his heart pounding and the green glow of the killing curse at the edge of his vision.

It did not help at all that his parents had yet another talk with him over the summer. They told him in more detail what had happened the Halloween that Voldemort attacked and their suspicions regarding Professor Quirrell.

Harry had taken the suggestion that it was his magic that killed and not some leftover protection from his mother in stride. In a sick, disturbing way it was somewhat comforting. If he had to kill Voldemort someday it was good to know that he had the ability to kill someone possessed by the bastard.

By the time his morning routine was finished thoughts of murder and dementors had left his mind. Yoga had always been good for focusing and clearing his mind. Early morning had proven to be his best times with Occlumency training.

He was early to breakfast to find that Brie was already there. Harry snuck up behind her and wrapped her in a bear hug, lifting her off her seat at the Gryffindor table and into the air. She squealed and demanded to be put down. Harry noticed a few smiles at the staff table in his peripheral vision.

"Congratulations Gryffindork," Harry said with a smile as he set her down then planted a kiss on top of her head. "Have you written Mum and Dad yet?"

Brie nodded vigorously, "Can I use Hedwig?"

"Of course Brie-Brie," Harry pulled his own letter to his parents and Sirius out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You can always use her so long as you ask first, and there are school owls when Hedwig's busy."

That time it was Brie who hugged Harry. Interested eyes watched them from all over the hall. It was not unusual for siblings to end up in different houses, but families rarely had students in both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Half the school probably expected Harry and Brie to be at each others' throats, completely forgetting that Harry already had friends in Gryffindor.

"Thanks Harry," Brie grinned.

"No problem," Harry mussed up her hair and she pouted. Brie hated when he did that. "Just remember that Moony is the brains of the Marauders. Don't get yourself in trouble."

"Moi?" Brie looked insulted.

"You," Harry responded firmly and made his way to his own table, where his roommates were just starting to show up. He sat down and joined the speculation about their new classes. Harry was both wary and excited about Care of Magical Creatures. With Hagrid as the instructor the classes were either going to be very fun, or very dangerous.

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	26. Chapter 26

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**Chapter Twenty-Six**

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"Mornin' 'Arry," Hagrid walked over to the Slytherin table when he entered the hall the first morning of classes. "I've got yer in me firs' class after lunch, got summat special ready for yer all."

"That's great Hagrid," Harry gave the half-giant a wide smile, completely faked, and let his head fall to the table with a thud when Hagrid was out of hearing range.

"Something wrong Harry?" Pansy questioned from across the table. With the truce between Harry and Draco came better relations amongst all the Slytherins of their year.

"Hagrid," Harry lamented, then raised his head and put on a mask of indifference that all his year mates would easily recognize as a mask. "For him, special most likely means highly dangerous. His idea of a cuddly pet is something that could bite your head off without a second thought or swallow you whole."

"Dragons, three-headed dogs, giant spiders," Draco listed off some of the more recent pets and the Slytherins of their year traded uneasy looks. Every one of them had signed up for Care of Magical Creatures, and not one of them was taking Divination or Muggle Studies. No one in Slytherin did.

"Everyone be on your toes during that class," Harry warned them before they all got up for Transfiguration, their first class of the year.

After that was Herbology, and then lunch and Care of Magical Creatures. Harry had Double Charms and Ancient Runes the next day, then History of Magic and Double Defense Against the Dark Arts, and on Thursday was Double Potions with Astronomy that night. Friday they had Transfiguration and Herbology again and their Astronomy classroom time.

Across the hall the Weasel was making fake swooning motions and pointing to Harry, yelling at him to beware of the dementors. Harry just rolled his eyes and did his best to ignore the idiot. Weasel stopped when his brothers, sister, Hermione, Neville, and Brie all smacked him, followed by what looked like a scathing lecture from Hermione.

Transfiguration was not at all informative for Harry, though the majority of the class found it fascinating, even if they wouldn't admit it. Harry had grown up with two animagi running around the Manor, playing with both their forms whenever the Potter children could convince them.

"Now," Professor McGonagall looked down at them sternly, "I know that some of you are familiar with the process for becoming an animagus. I trust you will _not_ be following in your father's footsteps Mr. Potter?"

Harry had the grace to give her a sheepish smile. He knew that his father was actually one of her favorites, despite the pranks and illegal animagus transformation, "No Ma'am. I have no desire to be stuck with a tail for three weeks. Sirius had a terrible time hiding it from the staff."

McGonagall shook her head and closed her eyes briefly, muttering something the class couldn't hear, "For homework I would like to see twelve inches on animagi, the dangers associated with the initial transformation, and the reasons why it is closely monitored by the Ministry."

With class dismissed the Slytherins headed down the stairs towards the entrance hall and the greenhouses.

"What exactly did your father do?" Ted asked Harry when they all stepped outside.

"He became an illegal animagus his fifth year along with two of his friends," Harry said plainly as if it took no special talent or work to achieve the transformation. "His form is a stag. He used to give us rides around the grounds with my mother watching us like a hawk. He probably still does for my little brothers and sister. They're not too big yet."

"Did they get caught?" Blaise asked, looking like he was reviewing his recent history.

Harry shook his head, "They went public and registered after my parents came back. Azkaban would have been much worse for Siri if he couldn't change into Padfoot."

He ignored the raised eyebrows as they piled into the greenhouse and took their seats on the opposite side of the room from the Hufflepuffs. Harry thought he understood somewhat how the Gryffindors felt in Potions. Though Sprout was not actively discriminatory towards Slytherins she did favor her Hufflepuffs.

"I knew your Dad was powerful but that's amazing," Tracey whispered in his ear just before Sprout started the class.

Across from Harry Draco still had his eyebrows raised, a sure sign that he was impressed. Harry just smirked. Draco spent so much time bragging about his father's influence with the Ministry, it was nice to turn the tables for once.

Herbology went completely without incident, for which Harry was grateful. He was still worried about Hagrid's class that afternoon though after that initial reaction he wouldn't let anyone know. He should have figured out who was teaching the class much earlier. Who else would assign them a biting book?

The books in mention were all secured shut as the Slytherins and Gryffindors made their way across the grounds to Hagrid's hut. He had a paddock outside it with one of the most peculiar creatures Harry had ever seen.

It had the head of and forelegs of an eagle, the body and rear legs of a horse. It was also winged and had the sharpest looking beak Harry had ever seen. The talons on the forelegs were at the very least six inches long.

Needless to say the entire class stepped back from the fence, not wanting to be within striking range of the creatures, hippogriffs Hagrid called them. Draco didn't make things any better by being his usual snarky self and griping about the textbooks. Harry agreed that a biting book was a bit extreme but he would never say anything to Hagrid about it. Hagrid just didn't understand.

He didn't know how he had been volunteered to greet Buckbeak as he certainly was not a foolishly brave Gryffindor. Harry only risked his life when someone else was in danger of losing theirs. He made it through and backed up to stand next to Hagrid with relief.

"They're not that bad," Harry sighed and shook himself.

Hagrid grinned, "All right, there's enough for three to a hippogriff. Only introduce yourselves one at a time, and remember to be polite."

Harry should have foreseen it even if he wasn't a seer by any stretch of the imagination. Draco paid attention in lessons only rarely with the exception of Potions. Even then he already knew most of the material, like Harry did with Defense, and had a tendency to taunt Gryffindors rather than take notes.

With a sharp sort of roar a talon flashed and a great bleeding cut appeared on Draco's arm. Hagrid rushed forward with Harry at his side. Harry dragged Draco away from the enraged hippogriff while Hagrid did his best to calm Buckbeak down.

"You idiot," Harry hissed at his fellow Slytherin while he ripped away the sleeves of his shirt and robe to get better access to the wound. "If you had listened to Hagrid this wouldn't have happened."

"That brute tried to kill me!" Draco gasped, shock setting in.

"If it was trying to kill you, you'd be dead," Harry snapped in irritation.

Harry tied a strip of torn robe around the top of Draco's arm as a makeshift tourniquet. The bleeding was bad and if Draco died Harry would kill him for being such a fool. Hagrid would be lucky to keep his job after this, after only one lesson.

"I'll take him to Poppy Hagrid," Harry said when Hagrid came to check on Draco. "You make sure that no one else insults one of these guys." Without bothering to wait for confirmation Harry signaled for Crabbe and Goyle to pick Draco up and led them to the hospital wing.

Harry was furious with the blond, but he figured that the gash on his arm was adequate payment for being so stupid. He interrupted while Draco was telling Poppy a tale of woe and gave her the absolute truth, glaring at Draco the whole time.

"What's wrong Harry?" Draco asked him on their way down to the common, his arm wrapped up in a sling. Poppy told him to keep it that way as long as it hurt and to see her if it got any worse. "You're not the one who got their arm ripped open."

"That's because I was paying attention to the class," Harry snapped back, "not gossiping or plotting against the Gryffindors."

Draco didn't get a chance at a retort because they reached the common room and Harry stalked off to their shared bedroom. Draco, Vince, and Greg stayed downstairs and regaled the group there with the tale of Draco's injury. Sure he exaggerated, but it wasn't like that would hurt anyone.

The House of Slytherin was starting to get sick of the Potter-Malfoy squabbles. The two of them fluctuated back and forth between being close friends and holding the other at wand point far too often.

A few seventh years suggested locking them in a room until they either killed each other or got over their latest problem, but were quickly shot down. The third years had made sure the year before that the whole House knew Harry was claustrophobic. Locking him in anywhere was not an option.

It ended up being delegated to their year mates to deal with the situation. Luckily this time it was only Harry that was mad. Draco was entirely confused. He had no idea what he had done to make Harry so furious with him. Harry wasn't about to forgive Draco, at least not until the blond figured out that his actions affected other people. Not everyone had a Daddy who could buy them out of trouble.

Defense Against the Dark Arts proved to be an interesting class. Harry had been under Remus's tutelage for so long that he knew Remus would excel at teaching the whole school. It put a bit of strain on his mother, who was taking over the tutoring at Potter Manor for the year, but they had all wanted Remus in the castle where he could watch for any sign, or scent, of Peter.

"Now," Remus smiled at the group of Slytherins who were looking back at him with completely passive expressions, "I understand that each House sees things their own way, and so I will be teaching you slightly differently than how I teach the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, or Hufflepuffs."

Harry was relieved. He had already heard from Neville and Hermione about the Snape boggart that Neville dressed in his grandmother's clothes before the entire class of Gryffindors. It would not be good for a Voldemort boggart to appear in front of his entire class. His classmates looked insulted though.

"Slytherins in particular tend to be slightly more private than the other Houses, especially when it comes to your fears," Remus continued. "Today you will be facing a boggart. Who, aside from Harry, can tell me what a boggart is?"

Nearly every hand shot up. It was no surprise, as boggarts tended to find small dark corners in manor houses to be the perfect homes, and everyone in that room lived in a manor house, even if it was a bit dilapidated like Goyle Grange.

"Mr. Nott," Remus gestured.

"A boggart is a shape shifter that will take the form of whatever you fear most," Ted answered. The Slytherins were starting to look a little better.

"Excellent," Remus's smile never wavered. "Why, if I was to release a boggart in this room, would we have an advantage over it? Harry?"

"It would have difficulty deciding what shape to assume, as there are so many of us and each of our fears will be different," Harry answered.

Remus nodded and his smile widened slightly. "I have a boggart in my office, and I will take you in one by one to face it, rather than having you face it as a group like I did with the Gryffindors."

Harry let a small smile form. It was a wise move. The Slytherins would not be happy with Remus if he forced them to reveal their greatest fears to their Housemates.

"The incantation to get rid of a boggart is this," Remus demonstrated the wand movement, _Riddikulus_, "and the key to destroying one is laughter. I want all of you to think of your greatest fear and how to make it funny, and practice the wand movement and incantation while your classmates are in my office. I will trust you all to act honorably and behave while I am out of the room."

_Smooth_, Harry thought with a smirk. Remus certainly knew how to manipulate Slytherins. He wasn't a Marauder for nothing.

"Who's ready to go first?" Remus asked the group. "Very well, follow me Miss Bulstrode."

Remus and Millicent went through the door to his office and Harry concentrated, how did one make Voldemort funny? Well, his father and Sirius would know right off the top of their heads. Just dress the bastard in a pink tutu and turn his wand into a bunch of pansies. Harry chuckled at the image and made a mental note to write to his father and godfather and share the thought when a shadow crept across his mind.

He suddenly knew that the boggart he faced would not become Voldemort at all. The memory of his mother's screams came back to him and he knew he would face a dementor in Remus's office.

Harry practiced the wand movement and wondered how he was going to make a dementor funny. One at a time his classmates went into the office and came out looking smug, having conquered the boggart. Harry nearly jumped when Remus called his name but maintained his composure until the door had closed. He felt one-way silencing wards snap into effect.

"Remus... I'm not sure...," Harry didn't bother to hide his nervousness. Remus would be able to smell it.

"Just give it a try Harry," Remus put a hand on his shoulder. "Just remember that I'm here, and it's not real."

Harry nodded and Remus flung open a shaking wardrobe. The tattered black robe floated out and rose menacingly above Harry. The screams started in his head and he lost all thought of making the boggart funny. He distantly heard his wand clattering to the floor, his heart beating rapidly in his ears and his breathing heavy.

With a pop the boggart dementor was replaced with the full moon. Remus had stepped in front of Harry and the boggart shifted. Remus waved his wand almost lazily and forced the boggart back into the wardrobe.

"Harry?" Remus knelt down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded, a bit shaky, as Remus produced some chocolate for him, "I'm sorry."

Remus shook his head, "I thought for sure it would be Voldemort and you would give him a bright purple rash or something along those lines."

A laugh escaped Harry, "I was thinking pink tutu myself, and flowers in place of his wand." Remus joined in on the laughter until Harry shivered again. "There has to be a way to fight dementors Remus. Please... I can't..."

They hugged tightly and Remus kissed Harry on the top of his head, "Come see me this weekend and we'll start working on it. I want you to look up the Patronus Charm beforehand, okay?"

Harry nodded, a little more hopeful now that he had those lessons to look forward to. If he could fight the dementors he wouldn't be so helpless whenever he encountered one of them. The Slytherins decided they liked Remus when he awarded each of them five points for facing the boggart, and five to Ted and Harry each for answering his questions at the beginning of class.

The Slytherin vs. Gryffindor quidditch game would be the first of the season, and a bit earlier than usual, as neither team had to replace any of their players. Still, Flint was working them hard, determined to beat Gryffindor. Draco sat in the bleachers, still bemoaning the injury that Poppy had certainly fully healed. He was truly milking it for all it was worth, and it was turning into cheese... rancid, moldy cheese.

Hagrid didn't show his face at meals for days, and when Harry finally went to see him, dragging Neville and Hermione along with him, they found him nearly hysterical. When Harry returned to his common room he was madder than ever at Draco. The blond just never thought about anyone other than himself.

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	27. Chapter 27

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

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"Pettigrew's been spotted!"

The voice proclaimed the news loudly from the Ravenclaw table and every student in the hall rushed to see a paper, Harry included. He decided then that he needed his own subscription to the _Daily Prophet_. He couldn't wait until his parents were done reading it now to go through the articles quickly in case Remus decided to question them about current events.

"Where?" Harry asked simply as he squeezed between Blaise and Ted, who were looking intently at Blaise's copy of the _Prophet_. Across the hall he saw the Weasley twins and Ginny with Brie and was comforted that they would look after her.

"Some muggles in Stromeferry saw him," Ted said solemnly. "That's not far from here."

"He's really coming after you Harry?" Maya asked with a little trepidation.

Harry nodded, "Looks like it. It won't be easy though, between dementors, Aurors, and Remus all looking for him."

"Why Professor Lupin?" Blaise asked.

"That's why he's here this year," Harry looked up from the photo of Pettigrew, taken from Sirius's memory that summer. "They were all friends in school, Pettigrew, my dad, Sirius, and Remus. The four of them know more about this castle than Dumbledore I'll wager. They even..."

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. He darted across the hall to the twins, "I need to take the map from you, and you might not get it back."

Fred and George gave him a peculiar look, "Why?"

"Think," Harry insisted harshly, "if Pettigrew gets near the castle the map will show him, even in his animagus form. Remus needs it."

They both nodded and Fred spoke for both of them, "We have class with him first thing. We'll run and get it now. Let him know we'll be late?"

"Got it," Harry gave them a quick, not altogether there smile and headed for the staff table while the twins ran out of the great hall without a word to their friends. Luckily people were accustomed to strange behavior from the twins because they just shrugged and went back to their meals.

Harry went straight to Remus, "I can't believe we both forgot about it."

"Harry?" Remus looked perplexed.

"Fred and George have the map," Harry said under his breath and Remus's eyes widened. A look of understanding crossed his face and he grinned. "They're bringing it to class with them. They might be a little late."

"Good work Harry," Remus's eyes flashed amber, a sure sign that he was thinking about Pettigrew. "Don't be late for class yourself."

Harry smiled and joined his year mates, who were just leaving the hall. He saw Remus turn and talk to the Headmaster, whose eyes started twinkling. Dumbledore gave Harry an encouraging smile and he pushed it out of his mind and went to his class.

He had promised he wouldn't get involved this year, that he wouldn't go looking for Petttigrew on his own. His parents knew he would be a match for the rat but they didn't want him taking any chances and Harry reluctantly agreed to stay in the castle and let the adults handle everything.

Days before the quidditch game the skies opened and poured out more rain and wind than most students thought possible without serious intervention. After Brie's brief accusing gaze Harry protested vehemently that he had nothing to do with it. That Potter family spell was both a curse and a blessing at times. She had no choice but to believe him.

"I hope this lets up by game time," Flint yelled to the team through the howling wind. Madam Hooch was perched in the stands surrounded by a weather bubble, only good when the person was stationary.

Several times already Harry had let himself get lost in the clouds and the air currents. He shook his head, "I don't think it will."

"We could reschedule," Draco suggested.

Flint snorted, "Like anyone would volunteer to take our place."

"I could go to Snape," Draco smirked. "My injury could be too severe to play."

The other team members, or most of them anyway, snickered. Harry glared, "I've had just about enough of your prima donna act." He poked Draco's arm and the blond just looked irritated, not injured. "You've been perfectly healthy since you left the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey has fixed worse on me in seconds."

"We don't have to play in this!" Draco tried to push his point and swept his hand to indicate the weather.

"We'll do fine," Harry glared at the rest of the team. "We can play in anything. I caught the snitch every time today."

"But it will mess the Gryffindors up," Draco argued. The rest of the team had backed off somewhat, seeing that Harry and Draco were arguing a bit too fiercely considering the subject.

"Is that what this is all about, getting attention and messing other people up?" Harry bit back. "Congratulations Draco, you've succeeded. Hagrid's going to lose his job and the Ministry will execute Buckbeak." He turned to Flint, ignoring Draco's reaction. "My vote is that we play. If the little girl here wants more attention he can get over himself and join the team. Otherwise I'm sure there's someone who can fill in."

He stormed off the field, not really caring which decision was made. Generally he was against cheating, and it would be cheating to say Draco was too injured to play. Harry was well aware that Hooch was following him in, guarding him just in case Pettigrew decided to kidnap him during a quidditch practice.

Harry had essentially called Draco a coward to his face, and there was no way he could carry on after that. The sling was gone the next day but Draco made a big show about still being in some pain and slowly working back into shape. He was probably working on an excuse in case Slytherin didn't win the game.

When Harry wasn't studying or practicing quidditch he was in the library with Hermione and Neville working on a way to save Buckbeak and Hagrid. He caught Draco looking at him like he wanted to talk more than once, but Harry ignored him. He had wanted Draco to figure out on his own how much of a prat he was being.

Halloween came around, along with the first Hogsmeade weekend. Harry tried to tell himself he didn't care as he watched all his friends leave for the village together, but it wasn't only the rest of his family he couldn't lie to. Harry couldn't fool himself either.

"The wand movement is unimportant here Harry, like with _Expelliarmus_," Remus explained to the moody Slytherin. Harry just couldn't cheer himself up. He liked spending time with Remus, but he would rather be racing around the village, carefree like all the other students.

"I know Remus, I read up on it like you told me," Harry sighed.

"Then you know you need a happy memory," Remus raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry intently.

Harry did not look at his uncle, but inspected the floor instead. He wiggled his toes. The only good thing about the day so far was that Remus didn't care if Harry wore shoes or robes in his classroom outside of class time.

"I know," Harry frowned. "Maybe this wasn't the best day to start."

"Or perhaps it is the perfect day," Remus countered. Harry looked up then. Remus was sitting, his face pale. It was a full moon that night. "Harry, you know what happens when a dementor gets near you. You'll need to come up with a happy memory despite that. Now I know you have plenty to choose from."

Harry nodded and bit his lower lip, determined. Remus wouldn't let up on him until he made some progress, no matter what kind of mood Harry was in. The wind howled outside and Harry thought of the exhilaration that came from using his elemental skills. The rain had let up, but it would be back soon. He brandished his wand.

_Expecto Patronum!_

A wisp of silvery substance curled out of his wand and floated away.

"Concentrate on that memory harder Harry. Feed the spell with it."

_Expecto Patronum!_

It was bright silver this time, but not corporeal yet. When he really succeeded his Patronus would take form, a shape associated with protection to Harry. He had a few ideas, three to be specific, of what it might be but didn't want to say anything. Harry didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, including his own.

The lesson lasted all day, and Harry was exhausted when it was time for dinner. The students would all be back from Hogsmeade, and Harry hadn't seen Neville yet that day. Each Halloween they renewed their pledge to protect their families and each other. The Slytherins were now accepting of Neville to some degree, but Harry doubted that Neville would ever be comfortable around them, so the pledge was made at the Gryffindor table before the feast started.

His friends were tactful and considerate. Unlike the rest of the third years, the Slytherins did not spend the meal rehashing their trip to Hogsmeade. Their conversation stayed the same as it did at any other meal. Luckily, it also meant that Harry didn't have to tell them what he was doing all day. Remus had requested that they keep the lessons secret so he didn't have dozens of students coming to him to ask for private lessons.

The Slytherins hadn't so much as gotten settled in their common room after the feast when Professor Snape burst into the room, his face set in an expression of fury.

"Everyone change into whatever you sleep in and get back in this room," Snape ordered tersely. "You have five minutes."

There was a mad rush for their rooms and Harry contemplated what he should do. He wasn't about to join his House in the common room naked. That was bound to cause a scene that he just didn't want to deal with.

"Need something to wear Harry?" Blaise asked teasingly and the rest of the room laughed.

Harry held his head high as he stripped out of his robes and uniform, "Not at all."

"You... you're going to..." Draco's eyes were wide.

"Of course not," Harry snorted and pulled on his yoga pants. They were loose enough to sleep in if he had to. He was not about to bother with a shirt though. The rest of the school would have to deal with it.

As they all made their way out of the common room Snape called from the head of the column, "Potter!"

Harry jogged up to join his Head of House, "Yes sir?"

Snape looked at him and blinked a few times, and Harry wondered how he would have reacted to how Harry usually slept. He gathered his composure, "You are to stay in the great hall tonight, no matter what."

"Why?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowed.

"Pettigrew attempted to break into the Gryffindor dorms," Snape said in an undertone, his voice only barely containing his evident anger.

"Brie... Neville...," Harry felt his heart rate quicken.

"No one was injured and every Gryffindor is accounted for," Snape explained much to Harry's relief.

"I'm staying with the Gryffindors tonight then," Harry declared.

"Excuse me?" Snape gave him a hard look.

Harry frowned, "Either Pettigrew thinks I'm a Gryffindor, or he doesn't know where the Slytherin dorms are, or he doesn't want me after all. I'm betting on the first. I know the Marauders found the Slytherin dorms when they were here."

Snape ground his teeth, "Yes, they did." It took him a little longer than usual to put his typical scowling mask back on. "Very well Potter."

They reached the great hall and Brie came flying into Harry's arms, "Harry! He cut up the Fat Lady and threatened her but she wouldn't let him in!"

"Shh," Harry held his sister tight as Neville came up to him and the Slytherins parted to walk around them and into the hall. "I've got you Brie-Brie. No one will hurt you while I'm here."

Dumbledore came in and conjured up squishy purple sleeping bags for all the students and then instructed the Head Boy and Girl not to let anyone leave the hall. Harry caught his eye and Dumbledore shook his head. Harry felt his heart sink. Pettigrew had gotten away again.

Brie spent the night snuggled up to Harry, like she had years ago when storms scared her out of her bed, knowing that Harry could protect her from them. Neville slept on her other side, and the twins were on the other side of Harry. Hermione, Ginny and Weasel were next to Neville.

It took longer than usual for Harry to fall asleep, but he eventually did, and was the first one awake. He shook Brie, who grumbled and frowned at him.

"You haven't been doing your yoga, have you?" Harry lifted an eyebrow, trying to get that Snape expression down still. A guilty flush spread over her face. "You're joining me this morning then."

They were stopped at the doors to the great hall by Professor McGonagall, who yawned and asked just what they thought they were doing. They eventually got permission to use the entrance hall, as they were the only ones awake, and Harry summoned their yoga mats from Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Brie's Head of House watched as the two Potters bent, twisted, folded, and stretched into positions which made her joints ache just by watching. She marveled that Lily could still do that after having six children.

There was no more sign of Pettigrew, not that Harry heard of, and Remus's face was like a thundercloud when he heard what had happened. Wormtail had taken advantage of the full moon, the time when Remus was incapacitated, unable to protect his cubs.

With the control that he had mastered in childhood, the werewolf shut that anger away and focused on helping Harry learn the Patronus Charm. They worked two nights a week and a couple hours each weekend, now using a boggart to simulate a dementor. Harry could drive it away, but was exhausted at the end, his Patronus still not fully corporeal.

The weather was worse than ever on the day of the quidditch game against Gryffindor. Fierce winds and driving rain made for nearly impossible conditions to play in. The Slytherin team was of two minds on this. It would make it easier to cheat, as Madame Hooch would just as much trouble seeing as the players, but it would also be difficult for anyone to see the snitch. The game could go on for hours.

Each team was outfitted with goggles and ponchos, to at least partially protect them from the rain. Harry wished he didn't have to wear his. He loved weather like this, and could fly perfectly fine. He just wasn't allowed to let anyone know that.

The snitch was elusive, and Harry hadn't caught sight of it in the two hours he had been on his broom. Slytherin was up, if for no other reason than most of their players were bulkier than the Gryffindors. It was harder for the storm to blow them off course.

The Gryffindor seeker was a seventh year that Harry didn't really know. The twins complained about him often though, and asked Harry repeatedly why he had let the hat put him in Slytherin. If Harry was on the Gryffindor team they would have been unbeatable. Harry would just smile and shake his head at them. He was happy in Slytherin for the most part.

Harry heard the flutter before he saw the glint of gold reflecting the lightning. The snitch darted by him, just a few feet away and headed up into the clouds. Harry followed, the Gryffindor seeker on his tail. He expanded his awareness to assess the air currents and started weaving, riding the wind and fighting the rain.

They were climbing steeply, and despite the snitch being just ahead of them the Gryffindor seeker pulled back and headed away. Harry looked back in confusion, but not for long as he didn't want to lose the snitch. Then he felt that the air around him was getting colder, a cold that invaded his body as no other cold could.

Harry fought it, consciously warming the air around him, arm stretched out for the snitch. He started to hear the screams but used every scrap of Occlumency he could muster to fight away their hold on his memories. It was starting to work, but then he saw the sheer number of dementors headed towards him. There had to be over a hundred of them floating above the pitch.

His mental shields started to slip just as his hand wrapped around the small golden ball. He pulled it tight against him and started down, away from the dementors, but they were below him too. He flung out his fire and the closest few caught, going up in flame like torches. Screams closed in on him and Harry felt his legs slip off his broom, the sensation of free fall. His last conscious act was to call up the wind to slow his descent.

He coughed, his head feeling like it would explode. The world swam around him, white, so much white, and the figures dressed in green and silver and red and gold, all of them muddy and dripping. He blinked and heard crying, Brie. Why was Brie crying?

"Harry?" Neville's hair was plastered to his head, just like everyone else around him.

Harry opened his eyes fully and struggled to sit up. He felt hands steady him and recognized the touch.

"Drink this Harry," Remus pressed a warm mug into his hands.

He tilted the mug to his mouth and the chocolatiest hot chocolate he had ever tasted, like a melted brownie, warmed him from the inside out. The fuzzy feeling in his head faded and he looked around at his friends. The entire Slytherin team was there, plus all the Slytherin third years. On the other side of the bed were Fred and George, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. Brie was in Remus's lap, sniffling still.

Harry held out his hands and she crawled from Remus's lap to Harry's bed and curled against him. He rubbed her back and looked to Flint, "What happened?"

Flint scowled, "Dementors. You fell off your broom. Lucky Professor Lupin and Dumbledore were there. They slowed your fall and shot something silver at the dementors, making them all go away. I've never seen Dumbledore so furious."

The other Slytherins wore the same expression, of guarded respect. Harry shut his eyes and nodded. He remembered now, and wondered when someone would ask him how he set a few dementors on fire.

"My broom?"

"Sorry Harry," Fred Weasley grimaced. George held out a bundle as Fred kept explaining. "When we saw you were okay we chased after it, but it had blown into the Whomping Willow."

George unfurled the bundle and the slivers that once were the finest broom on the market were in his hands. Harry looked away, not wanting to think of what it took to reduce a broom to that state. It was utterly beyond repair.

"I guess I'll be using that other 2001 now," Harry let out a hollow laugh.

Madam Pomfrey bustled into the ward and started shooing everyone away. Remus gave Harry a look that they would talk later and led Brie away. The last one there was Draco, who gave Pomfrey a pleading look.

She sighed, "Two minutes," and went back to her office.

"I...," Draco swallowed and Harry was confused. Draco never lost his composure. "I'm sorry Harry... for everything."

"I'm not the one you owe an apology," Harry wouldn't relent on this one.

Draco nodded, his hair dripping into his eyes, the first time Harry had ever seen it unkempt. He kind of liked it that way. "I know. I... I'll help with your research. I know what Father's using. I can't... go against him... but I'll help you."

"And Hagrid?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

There was a flinch, and Harry wondered if Draco was afraid of Hagrid because of his giant blood. It shouldn't really surprise him if that was the case.

"Not just yet," Draco looked pathetic, "please Harry?"

Harry acquiesced, leaning back against the pillows, "Fine. But if this doesn't work you're apologizing to him. You should anyway. He's crushed."

"I will," Draco promised, "just... not yet." Harry nodded. "Are we... are we okay?"

"Yeah," Harry gave in with a small smile, "we're okay."

Draco grinned and hugged Harry gently before leaving the ward. Harry felt a shiver down his spine, but he just attributed it to his brush with the dementors.

Sure enough, Poppy came back with more chocolate to force down his throat. Between Patronus lessons and encounters with actual dementors, Harry was slowly but surely losing his taste for chocolate.

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	28. Chapter 28

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

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Ron Weasley amused himself by doing spirited reenactments of Harry falling off his broom, and impressions of dementors. All Harry had to do was look pathetic and glance down for the twins to jump on their brother and berate him for being an insensitive prick.

Harry was still not able to manage a corporeal Patronus by the time the winter holiday came around, but he was determined. For once he was going to have Christmas at home with his family. He had gone two years without and that was enough for him.

The merrymaking was perhaps more than usual that winter. The Potters and Longbottoms, who were staying at the Manor for the holiday week, had snowball fights, played a ridiculous number of pranks on each other, and stuffed their faces with seasonal treats. The best part was almost certainly Christmas morning.

After their usual morning yoga and a light breakfast the Potter siblings and Neville anxiously awaited opening their gifts. After waiting for what felt like an eternity they ganged up on Sirius and woke him loudly and wetly, much to his chagrin. The dripping animagus chased the children through the house, making sure to shake off some of the icy water on them. Some drying charms, and a round of hot chocolate, hot mulled cider for Harry, later and they were ready for gifts.

There were heaps of new clothes, toys for the younger Potters, books and a few new videos for the family. Harry's favorite present he saved for last, knowing by the shape of the box what it had to be. He ripped off the green and red flashing paper to reveal the carrying case for the Firebolt, the most advanced broom yet.

It wasn't even fully on the markets yet. He didn't know what strings his family had pulled to get it for him but he couldn't be happier. The card read that it was from the Marauders and Mum and Harry gave each of them a tight hug while Brie ogled the broom.

Sirius ruffled his hair, "You didn't think we'd let you go without did you, or let you use a broom the Malfoys bought?"

"Thanks Padfoot," Harry remained on the couch next to his godfather, wishing he could be a little kid again and hide behind his parents. A niggling thought in his mind reminded him he had never hid behind his parents, had never really had a chance to be a little kid. He had started training to kill a man before he could speak in full sentences.

Still, Harry managed to enjoy the rest of the holiday. He pushed all thoughts of Pettigrew out of his mind, as there was no chance that he could get anywhere near the Manor without dozens of alarms going off and hexing him into oblivion. Harry knew that his dad and Sirius almost wanted the rat to try getting into the Manor, just to see all their traps triggered.

The holiday had done everyone some good. Remus had started to look a bit like he had been dragged miles by Hagrid's hippogriffs, but with his pack joining him for the full moon over the holiday he had his best transformation since he had started at Hogwarts. It didn't hurt that the Wolfsbane Potion purchased by the Potters came without Snape's cruel and biting remarks.

That enmity between Snape and the Marauders seemed to be climbing to new heights. Harry hadn't spoken much with his Head of House that year, but every time Remus's name came up Snape started to look like he had eaten something rotten. Harry hadn't though the grudge from back when they were all fifth years was still that strong but Snape proved otherwise when the Headmaster had him cover one of Remus's classes the day after the full moon.

"Open your books to page 296," Snape said as he strode into the room.

Several hands were raised politely, as it was a Slytherin class. Snape spun around and glared briefly, "Greengrass."

"Where is Professor Lupin, sir?" Maya asked politely.

Snape's glare deepened, "_Professor_ Lupin is indisposed." He caught Harry's eye and scowled, as if daring him to stick up for his uncle.

Harry said nothing though, just opened his book to the page Snape mentioned. He felt his muscles all tighten and Draco leaned over to him, "We aren't supposed to start on werewolves yet."

"Do you have something to say Mr. Malfoy?" Snape hissed.

Draco shook his head, "No sir."

The blond had started working with Harry, Hermione, and Neville to find a way to save Buckbeak. Dumbledore had already assured Hagrid that his job was secure, but Lucius Malfoy was determined to embarrass the Headmaster any way he could. Draco had actually questioned his father over the holiday, seemingly eager for the execution of the hippogriff, and then passed all the information on to Harry.

"Read Miss Parkinson," Snape ordered. He gave the chair Remus used a disdainful look and remained standing.

Pansy started reading aloud about werewolves, and the class went on that way, with Snape interjecting every now and then to correct the book or add something. Harry could barely contain himself. He felt like hexing his Head of House to Hades and back. Half of what he was saying was myth, superstition, and perpetuated the stereotypes against werewolves and other so called 'dark' creatures.

He stayed behind after the class and set silencing wards on the classroom, "You did that on purpose."

"Pardon me Mr. Potter?" Snape gave Harry a look of innocence.

Harry glared with every ounce of hatred he could put into the look, "You know precisely what I am talking about. Remus doesn't have werewolves scheduled until the end of the year. You changed the lesson hoping that someone will figure out what he is. You are despicable."

"Detention, Potter, for insulting a Professor," Snape towered over him and glared heatedly.

"I wasn't insulting a Professor," Harry snorted. "You have to be an adult to be a Professor. All I see is a child who can't get over something that happened more than ten years ago."

"You are out of line Mr. Potter," Snape was getting dangerously close to taking points from Slytherin.

"_I'm_ out of line?" Harry felt his eyes round and wind whipped around him but didn't touch anything else in the room. "You think _I'm_ out of line? I still don't know exactly what Sirius did to you, but it was just Sirius. Dad and Remus didn't have a thing to do with it."

"You think your precious Lupin had nothing to do with it?" Snape smiled perversely. "He nearly killed me when I was fifteen years old. I saw him."

All at once Harry knew exactly what had happened. Sirius must have revealed to Snape somehow that Remus would be in the Shrieking Shack, setting Snape up for what he thought would be a huge scare. His godfather had been reckless to the point of criminal irresponsibility, but he had mostly grown up. When the situation called for it, Sirius Black was deadly serious.

Harry nodded, "So that's what he did, and you still blame Remus? Do you think he wanted you to know what he was? He didn't even want his friends to know. They had to stop him from quitting school after they confronted him. Do you know how ashamed he is of what he is, of how little control he has when the moon is full? Or did you only ever think of yourself?"

"Mr. Potter," Snape's voice was dangerously low but Harry went on anyway.

"Sirius was an idiot," Harry snapped at his teacher. "He was stupid, and thoughtless, and impulsive, and he paid for it. He spent a year in Azkaban, a _year!_ Do you know why he suggested Peter as Secret Keeper?"

"Tell me Potter," Snape's chest was rising and falling with angry breaths.

"Sirius said they couldn't trust him," Harry felt tears welling up, remembering when he had heard this story himself. "He said that after what he did to Remus that night, when he revealed Remus to _you_, that he couldn't be trusted. He thought that if he could let that slip, he couldn't be trusted to keep our location secret. He paid. He thought for a year that he had killed Mum and Dad. It took more than five years for the nightmares from Azkaban to fade."

Snape just stood there, still glaring, "He deserved everything he got."

"No one deserves Azkaban," Harry replied, a little horrified. "No one deserves dementors. Sirius is sorry for what he did. He hates himself for betraying Remus and putting your life in danger. It looks to me like you're the only one who hasn't grown up _Professor_."

Harry stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He needed to find a place he could be alone, but he wasn't allowed to leave the castle without someone accompanying him. He stormed down to the dungeons, groups of other students parting in his path as he stalked along. Once he got to his room he shut the door and locked it, warding against anyone else coming in.

He needed to let go, and wished the storms were still there. The sky was clear, and Harry wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the fire of the lightning, the wind and water of the clouds. He focused on the fireplace in the room and flames shot upwards, burning hotter than any naturally created fire could. They were almost white, and the room was illuminated. Harry poured all his anger and frustration into the fire until he had no energy left. He released the wards and unlocked the door before collapsing on his bed.

The game against Ravenclaw was that weekend, and Harry's Firebolt was the center of attention. His roommates didn't ask why they had found him napping that afternoon after Defense, or why their room was ridiculously warm. Harry had missed a research session in the library, but based on Neville's stormy face at dinner after the Gryffindors had Defense he understood exactly why.

The Slytherin team was in high spirits as they made their way to the field. There had been no Quidditch Cup the year before, and Flint was determined to win that year, his last year at Hogwarts. With Harry on a Firebolt it was almost guaranteed that Slytherin would win the Cup. No other seeker had anything even close. If they won the game against Ravenclaw they would play Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup.

"Let's kill 'em," Flint's eyes glinted as they mounted their brooms.

Harry soured out into the air, the power of the broom simply amazing. He had never flown that fast before. He spiraled and rolled, the wind whipping through his hair. He felt free and invincible.

The game was fast paced and brutal. Slytherin was on fire, and got called on so many fouls that Hooch threatened to call the game in favor of Ravenclaw if they didn't rein it in. Luckily, Flint listened and motioned for the beaters and chasers to follow the rules... somewhat.

The flash of gold was spotted by Harry and his opponent, a pretty girl named Cho Chang, at the same time. They grinned at each other and shot towards it. As Harry headed up into the sun he saw tall figures in black robes coming onto the field. Without thinking he whipped out his wand and shouted.

_Expecto Patronum!_

He didn't bother to look at the results, but continued his chase of the elusive snitch. It was an easy catch, as Cho's Shooting Star was a snail in comparison to the Firebolt Harry rode.

The snitch clutched victoriously in his hand, Harry rode a victory lap with his teammates. When he landed Remus was there to congratulate him.

"The dementors," Harry was slightly out of breath, "what happened?"

Remus just laughed, "Come see for yourself."

The other Slytherins followed them across the pitch, to where McGonagall was shaking her finger and yelling at some black lumps on the ground. Weasel had recruited one of his roommates, the Irish one... Finnigan, and a few younger Gryffindors to pretend to be dementors.

"I have never been more ashamed of Gryffindor!" McGonagall's hat had fallen partway off her head and her face was red. "Fifty points subtracted and you all will serve detention with Professor Snape. Get out of my sight before it becomes more!"

Harry was bent over nearly double laughing. The rest of the team joined him, and several of them collapsed onto the grass. The Weasley twins came running up to him, also laughing.

"We swear we didn't know," Fred professed.

"What was that you shot at him?" George questioned eagerly.

More Gryffindors were close behind them, and Brie added when they finished, "Yeah. It looked like it might be Moony."

"Really?" Harry stopped laughing and looked at Remus with hope in his eyes.

Remus nodded, unable to conceal a grin, "I'm proud of you Harry."

Harry knew that Remus wanted to hug him, but wouldn't break the propriety of professor-student relationships in public. They would talk later. The Slytherins left the field to celebrate.

Snape never called Harry to his office to determine the date of the detention he assigned and Harry never said a word about it. In fact, he only spoke to his Head of House when it was absolutely necessary.

"What's with you and Snape?" Draco asked in the library as they were finalizing the defense for Buckbeak.

Hermione was even making flash cards for Hagrid so he could use them in the hearing. The Gryffindor girl looked a bit ragged, but any mention of it made her snap, so Harry wasn't even commenting anymore. He found out that she was taking more classes than it was possible to attend without the use of restricted magic, and assumed that was making her a mess.

Harry scowled, "I'd rather not discuss it."

Neville looked up quickly, but then down at his book. Unfortunately Draco caught the reaction, "Longbottom knows?"

"Neville knows a lot about me that you don't," Harry responded.

Draco Malfoy confused him more than anyone he had ever met. Half the time they were at each others throats, and the rest of the time Draco acted like they were the closest of friends. Harry didn't know what to think.

Did Draco actually look hurt? Harry and Neville had been friends for as long as they could both remember. It wouldn't be possible for anyone to learn as much as they knew about each other in only a couple of years.

Draco didn't let the subject drop. He continued to interrogate Harry on the way back to Slytherin, "How come Longbottom knows? When did you tell _him_?"

Harry spun on his roommate and stopped walking. He shot him a look of disbelief, "Are you _jealous_?"

"Of Longbottom?" Draco sniffed as if insulted.

"Well you're certainly acting like you are," Harry said with a little smirk. "If you must know, I didn't tell Neville. He knows me well enough that he didn't even need to ask. He knows exactly why I'm furious with Snape."

"Furious?" Draco was taken aback.

Harry snorted, "You think I can't hide my emotions like the rest of you?"

"I...," Draco started, but didn't finish. Any reply would only really dig him deeper.

"Forget about it," Harry waved a hand. "I can't tell you why I'm mad, because it's not my place to tell you, nor is it Neville's. Let's just put our stuff away and get to dinner."

Harry started to walk away and not long after Draco jogged to catch up with him, muttering under his breath, "Sorry."

Harry just smirked. He wondered if Draco Malfoy would have even thought to apologize to anyone a few years ago. There was also a little part of him that wondered what Lucius Malfoy thought of all this, his son's friendship with Harry and the time Draco spent actually socializing with Gryffindors as a result. There had to be Malfoy ancestors rolling over in their graves.

At breakfast the next morning Neville's face was pasty white, and not a single Gryffindor was sitting next to him. It was still early, and less than half of them were there, but it still didn't add up. Brie was sitting with the other girls from her year and she kept shooting wary looks down at Neville.

Harry shot a quick look to Draco, who was smashing his eggs with his fork, a frown on his face, and stood without a word to anyone. He made his way across to the Gryffindor table and sat next to Neville.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked softly, now noticing the glares from some of the other Gryffindors directed at Neville.

Neville was almost shaking, "I... I..."

"Take a deep breath Nev," Harry instructed. "Let it out slowly." Neville tried, but he was too distraught. "Screw this. We're getting out of here, c'mon."

Harry led Neville out of the great hall amidst stares from all the Houses. The expressions from every House except Gryffindor were inquisitive, which meant none of them knew what happened yet. They made their way up to the Defense corridor and knocked on Remus's office door. The door opened, and Remus gave Neville a sympathetic look before ushering them in.

"I'm sure you could use some tea," Remus said. He took them through another door and into what had to be his private quarters. A wave of his wand made a tea set materialize on a low table. "You have an hour before classes. I expect you both to be there."

With that Remus left them, exchanging a look with Harry on the way out. Remus was tense, and Harry could see the Marauder's Map peeking out of a robe pocket.

"Tell me everything," Harry watched Neville drink some tea, his hands making the cup clatter against the saucer. He hadn't seen Neville this bad in years.

"Sir Cadogan replaced the Fat Lady, and he's been changing the password almost every day," Neville started in a rush. "I have so much trouble remembering them anyway, so I convinced him to tell me the whole week and I wrote them down so I wouldn't forget." Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. He could see where this was going. "I don't know how he got them! The paper was on my bedside table! I know I left it there!"

"Deep breaths Nev," Harry reminded his friend.

Neville nodded and focused on the fire in the grate, "Wormtail got into Gryffindor last night. He was in our room. He woke up Ron, and there was all this noise, and then he was gone, and there was this deep cut on Ron's arm, and there was so much blood Harry! It was all my fault!"

Neville broke down and Harry hugged him like he would Brie if she was upset, "You didn't do anything wrong Neville."

"I wrote down the passwords, and he got it somehow! No one's allowed to tell me the password anymore and I have detention, and I can't go to Hogsmeade anymore, and McGonagall's writing to Mum and Dad!"

Harry winced. The Longbottoms were hard on Neville. He knew that Neville was expecting a Howler, and that it would be pretty scathing.

"Did you want Wormtail to get in?" Neville shook his head. "Did you want Ron to get hurt?" Neville shook his head again. "Did Poppy heal him?" Neville nodded. "Then everything worked out Nev. The Weasel is fine and has another story to brag about, and Pettigrew didn't get what he wanted."

Of that Harry was not entirely sure, but it comforted Neville. He was in complete disgrace, and the expected Howler arrived two days after they talked in Remus's rooms. The amplified voices of Alice and Frank expressed their extreme disappointment in their only son.

Harry wanted to chase after Neville when he ran out of the great hall once the Howler ended, but he knew Neville wanted to be alone. Luckily for Neville, the majority of the Weasleys didn't find him at fault and the rest of Gryffindor followed their lead once everyone cooled down.

The year was wrapping to a close and there hadn't been another sign of Pettigrew. It was possible he had been scared off. Harry knew that Remus was losing sleep, wandering the corridors at night with the Map in hopes to find his former friend. The Ministry approved Auror patrols, and as a result there was a large black dog seen on the grounds frequently.

According to Neville, Hermione quit Divination, making a huge scene in the process. She actually told off Trelawney, called her ridiculous, and stormed out. The story was told multiple times in Slytherin, and they all got a laugh out of it. It actually fomented some respect for Hermione, though most Slytherins would never admit it.

Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, and Harry couldn't remember ever feeling happier than he was when the beaters lifted him onto their shoulders and he held the Cup up high for the whole school to see. He could have produced the best Patronus ever at that moment.

It was early on the last Hogsmeade day of the year that Tracey stayed behind and surprised Harry in his room as he was studying for exams, which were looming ever closer.

"Harry," Tracey was nervous and she fiddled with the edge of her skirt as she sat on his bed, "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

Harry closed his book and looked at his friend. He hadn't spent much time with his Slytherin friends outside of class and their common room. So much of his spare time had been occupied with Quidditch practices and researching to help Hagrid and Buckbeak.

"Of course you can," Harry responded, a bit puzzled. He wondered why she wasn't in Hogsmeade with everyone else and what she could possibly want from him.

"You see," Tracey shifted uncomfortably, "I have two older sisters, and they told me the first time hurts, and one of them had this horrible boyfriend who left her right after, and I didn't want that to happen to me, so I figured if I found a friend who was really nice and wouldn't hurt me, at least not more than necessary..."

Harry knew he had lost whatever Slytherin mask he usually had and his eyes were wide in shock. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't _that_.

Tracey shifted closer to him and leaned in to kiss him, and Harry found himself returning the gesture. Her lips were soft and full and Harry felt his blood pounding in his chest. She directed his hands to her chest, and snaked hers inside his shirt, and shortly after Harry found he was very thankful that he still had some semblance of rational thought left, and for the first time glad Sirius had given him that book.

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	29. Chapter 29

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

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The relationship between Harry and Tracey remained that of friends, as neither of them was looking for more from the other. Harry was still puzzled though. While all his physical reactions had been just about what he expected, he had felt there was something missing from the whole experience.

It did not help that he had gotten into an argument with Remus when he had his private lesson later that day. Remus had smelled the change in Harry, despite a shower and numerous cleansing charms, and Harry had refused to tell him anything beyond that he had been helping a friend. It was the first time he ever actually fought with his normally gentle uncle. They hadn't spoken much since.

"I never thought I'd get to do this!"

Harry's head snapped to the seat next to him, "Sirius! What are you doing here?"

"Free food!" Sirius had a roll stuffed in his mouth and was grinning while he chewed. "I always wanted to see what would happen if I ate at the Slytherin table."

The majority of the Slytherin table grimaced and looked away. Harry rolled his eyes, "Please, Siri, are you acting like you were raised in a barn on purpose?"

Sirius swallowed, "You're no fun Cub."

"This coming from the man who had bells in his hair all holiday," Harry smirked mischievously.

Sirius smiled again, "How did you get those to go away? You weren't even there! Oh, and Amelia says to never do that again. She had to put a silencing spell on my hair every time I went out on patrol."

"You think I'll actually tell you?" Harry asked. "Then you'd just use it on me! And you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"Pettigrew Patrol," Sirius replied.

"Well, he's not eating breakfast at the Slytherin table," Harry assured his godfather with raised eyebrows.

Sirius ruffled his hair and Harry swatted his hands away, "I know that. I just took the opportunity to stop in on my favorite godson."

"Your only godson," Harry corrected, but still smiling. "My parents are the only ones insane enough to trust you with their kids."

There was a loud crash from the entrance hall followed by a female voice, "Oops."

Sirius shook his head and grabbed some bacon, "I better make sure she hasn't broken anything. See ya Cub." He hugged Harry and ran out of the hall, stopping briefly at Gryffindor to see Brie and Neville. "Tonks! What did you break this time?"

Several Slytherins were giving Harry questioning looks. He frowned at them, "What! He's my godfather!"

They just shook their heads and everyone went back to their meal. Owl post arrived and Harry heard a gasp from the Gryffindor table. Hermione jumped up and ran over to Harry, thrusting a damp piece of parchment at him.

"Hagrid lost!" Hermione sniffed. "They're going to execute Buckbeak!

Draco made himself scarce for the next few days. It was final exams, so it wasn't that difficult to do. Everyone was studying hard, though the fifth and seventh years were the worst. They had their standard Ministry exams, and there was a good reason that Snape taught the Calming Draught to his fourth year classes right before exams. It stocked up the infirmary for frenzied students.

Buckbeak was scheduled for execution on the last night of exams, and Harry had finally tracked Draco down and convinced him to apologize to Hagrid. They were planning to go just before the execution, in hopes to make Hagrid feel a little better before it happened.

At lunch that day Neville was looking rattled again and stopped Harry on the way out of the hall, "Trelawney said something funny during my exam."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Everything Trelawney says is funny."

"No," Neville insisted and pulled Harry into an empty classroom. "I think it was a real prophecy. She went all strange, and her voice was deeper, and she couldn't remember a thing when she was done."

Harry considered for a moment, and knew what they were both thinking. It was Trelawney who had given the first prophecy, the prophecy that had sent the Potters into hiding. She might be a flake, but she did give true prophecy sometimes. Harry nodded, "What did she say?"

"I don't remember it exactly, but she said the Dark Lord's servant will return to him tonight and he will rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before," Neville was steadier than he had ever been, his voice quiet and insistent. He wasn't shaking, or quivering.

Harry shuddered. If it was a true prophecy, than it would start soon, "There's nothing we can do. Prophecy is too weird. If we try to stop, we'll probably just make it happen."

Neville nodded, "So what do we do?"

"I'm going to see Hagrid tonight," Harry told Neville. "Draco promised he would apologize. I'm not going to change my plans."

"I don't know why you're friends with him," Neville sighed.

"Most of the time I don't either," Harry rolled his eyes. "He's just... I don't know... there's something there that's not anything like his father."

"He _did_ help with Buckbeak, 'course it was his fault to begin with," Neville said with a frown.

"We have to get going," Harry reminded Neville. "I don't want to be late for Remus's exam."

"You'll do perfect," Neville grinned. "It's just your style."

They left the room and bumped right into several people gathered in the great hall.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom."

"Good afternoon Minister Fudge," Harry greeted with a short bow which Neville echoed. "What brings you to Hogwarts today?"

"I had to come and check on the Pettigrew situation," Fudge said pompously, "and as the Ministry needed a witness for a wild hippogriff execution I have that duty as well."

Harry nodded and urged Neville not to say anything. He saw that there was an elderly man with Fudge, and another, younger man, who was fingering a large shining axe on his belt.

"We have exams to be getting to," Harry took leave of Fudge. "It was a pleasure to see you Minister."

"And you Mr. Potter," Fudge smiled his politician smile, the one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he added as an afterthought, "Mr. Longbottom."

Both boys bowed before running off in opposite directions. Neville had his Charms exam, while Harry had Defense outside. He got there just in time and saw that Remus had set up an obstacle course for them to get past various creatures. Neville was right. It was the perfect kind of exam for Harry.

"Perfect marks Harry!" Remus announced at the end of the test. Harry grinned at his uncle as he stepped out of the old trunk where he had battled the boggart. Remus added under his breath, "And extra credit for that Patronus."

It was after dinner when Harry and Draco met Hermione and Neville in the same old classroom where Harry and Neville had talked earlier that day. For some reason Ron Weasley was with them.

"You again!" Harry groaned. "Why do you have to follow us every year?"

Weasel snorted, "Well you end up needing me every year."

Draco opened his mouth for a scathing retort but Harry didn't want a fight to break out, "Let's just get out of here." He looked back and forth between Draco and Weasel. "You two know the deal, behave or I tie you up and leave you in Hagrid's pumpkin patch."

Neville laughed and Hermione frowned, but she was finally looking a little healthier. They snuck down to Hagrid's hut, trying to make sure they weren't seen. Draco walked close to Harry, "Do I have to do this in front of Weasel?"

Harry sighed, "I don't want him here either, but yes you do. There won't be another chance and I'm not stunning him just for the sake of your pride."

Draco swallowed and nodded. They didn't talk again until they were in Hagrid's hut, drinking tea from enormous mugs. Hagrid kept giving Draco strange looks, as if wondering why he was there. Draco was the one who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about Buckbeak Hagrid," Draco was looking down into his mug. "I didn't mean for it to go this far. It's my fault, and I'm sorry."

Weasel snorted but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Hagrid sniffed and took Draco into a rough hug, spilling his tea and making Draco's eyes open wider than Harry had ever seen, "Don' blame yerself laddie. Yer Da' has been lookin' fer a way ter get Dumbledore fer years."

At that Draco looked sincerely guilty. He hadn't known what to expect in reply to his apology. He thought maybe Hagrid would just glower at him, or cry or something. Well, he was certainly crying, but he had actually forgiven Draco, and with nothing more than an apology. Draco felt like dirt, lower than dirt even.

"They're coming!" Hermione exclaimed, keeping her watch out the window.

"We can stay Hagrid!" Harry said, inspired to help somehow. "We can tell them Buckbeak's innocent."

Draco's face was pale and Hagrid shook his head, "Get out of here. I don't want any of yer to see this."

Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak, and Draco shook his head, a small smile appearing. Harry shrugged and they all got under the cloak, though it was an extremely tight fit. They left through the door that went to Hagrid's back garden and edged around the house and set off up towards the school. The sun was beginning to set and Harry glanced back towards the house, and froze in place.

The others kept going, and the cloak pulled off Harry. He didn't notice though. His eyes were following the small grey rat that was running towards the Whomping Willow.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed as quietly as she could.

"It's Pettigrew," Harry said, his throat dry, his heart pumping. He had his wand out, and saw the cloak fall away as Neville and Draco pulled their wands as well.

There were several indistinct male voices, and the unmistakable swish and dull thud of an axe. Hermione jumped in place and gasped.

"They did it!" she whispered. "I can't believe they did it!"

Harry paid no attention though. His feet were carrying him towards the Whomping Willow. He knew now how Pettigrew was getting on school grounds, and wondered if Remus had even thought to check. He should send a message to the school, call for help, anything, but he could only think of getting revenge, for Sirius, for his parents, for himself.

He started to run and Neville and Draco were at his side in an instant, "Harry!"

"It's Pettigrew! I know where he's going! There's no time!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione and Weasel must have notice they were running because they came up behind them, "What's going on?"

"Ron go get a Professor!" Neville ordered, knowing he couldn't possibly dissuade Harry from his course. "Tell them Pettigrew is headed towards the Shrieking Shack."

At that moment the Whomping Willow froze and the rat darted under it. Weasel nodded and ran towards the castle. By the time the four of them got to the Willow it was moving again. They stopped just at the edge, and Harry looked around, trying to remember how to freeze it. His dad and Sirius had told him so many times.

"Harry!" Neville's voice stopped his thoughts. "We can't just chase after him! You promised you wouldn't."

"I said I wouldn't go hunting for him Neville, not that I wouldn't get him if I saw him!" Harry replied in frustration. "That little bastard is the reason Siri had to go to Azkaban, and I had to go to the Dursleys!" Harry felt tears forming but he didn't care.

"He's the reason Mum had a hard time with Brie and she can't have any more kids, and why Brie is small and gets sick so easily. Remus was alone for a year and everyone thought Mum and Dad were dead! He's hurt my whole family and I'm going to make him pay!"

"I'm sorry Harry," Neville replied, his voice a little shaky. He raised his wand, and Harry didn't even see it coming. _Stupefy!_

"Damn Longbottom," Draco whistled as Harry dropped to the ground, "didn't know you had it in you. Now what?"

"Ron went to get a professor," Neville explained in a cautious tone. He wasn't too sure he had done the right thing. If it was Belletrix Lestrange in the Shack, who had tortured him and his grandmother, he would want nothing more than to chase after her. He also expected that Harry would stop him, knowing they couldn't go up against her alone, not yet. "We wait, and we make sure Pettigrew doesn't come back this way."

It was only minutes later that Remus came running out of the castle, Ron hot on his heels, "I saw him on the Map Neville. Where is he?"

"He went through the tunnel," Neville pointed and Remus summoned a long stick. He expertly prodded a large knot on the trunk of the tree and was on his way down the tunnel before the tree stopped freezing. There was a loud bark and a large black dog followed him, pausing only to lick Harry's face.

"Padfoot!" Neville kneeled down and wiped off Harry's cheek with the edge of his robe.

"What is going on Neville?" Hermione snapped. "Who was that dog?"

"That was Sirius. There have been Aurors patrolling the grounds," Neville replied calmly. "He's an animagus, just like James and Pettigrew. Pettigrew was that rat. Does anyone know how to wake Harry?"

Shadows were starting to creep across the grounds and the other students all shrugged. Draco gave Neville a scathing look, "You're the one who knocked him out."

"I know!" Neville responded urgently. "I can never remember the counter though."

"Never?" Weasel asked. "When have you used it before?"

"What are you doing here?"

Four heads snapped around to see Professor Snape, holding a large steaming goblet, and glaring at them.

"Pettigrew!" Neville replied, still feeling the adrenaline from going against Harry. "He's in the Shack. Remus and Sirius went to get him!"

"Imbeciles," Snape growled. He pointed his wand at Harry. _Enervate_! Then he too went through the tunnel to the Shack, moving stiffly.

Harry sat up quickly and at first wondered what he was doing on the ground and how it had gotten dark so quickly. Then he saw the look on Neville's face, even guiltier than he had been that morning after Pettigrew got into Gryffindor Tower.

"I'm sorry Harry!" Neville said. "I had to stop you. You would have done the same to me. Pettigrew still has his wand. We're not ready yet!"

Any anger that Harry would have felt faded at the sight of Neville near tears, "I know. Did you tell someone?"

"Professors Lupin and Snape, and Sirius Black all went after him," Hermione said, kneeling down at his side. "We should get back to the castle now."

Harry nodded, though he looked reluctantly towards the Whomping Willow, which had started to thrash yet again.

"Why did Professor Snape have that goblet with him?" Weasel asked curiously.

"What?" Harry jumped to his feet. "What goblet? Were there fumes coming off of the potion in the goblet?"

Weasel nodded, "I think so."

Harry felt his blood drain out his face yet again. He made eye contact with Neville and looked up at the sky. Neville caught on immediately and gulped.

"Now what is it with you two?" Draco snapped.

"Everyone has to get inside right now," Harry ordered, giving Hermione a hand up and urging her towards the castle. He didn't notice the Willow freezing again behind them. Her feet seemed frozen in place, no matter how hard Harry pulled at her arm. He had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what the danger was.

"They're coming back," Weasel pointed out.

"Move! Move now!" Harry yelled at them. He pointed his wand in their direction, and Draco's eyes went wide for the second time that night.

"What is so...," Draco started, and then he seemed to connect the pieces. He looked up at the sky and swallowed, then nodded.

"Harry, what are you still doing here?" Sirius came out from under the tree, floating an unconscious Snape before them. Peter was handcuffed between Sirius and Remus.

Harry pointed his wand at Snape. _Enervate!_

"Did Remus take his potion?" Harry asked Sirius, looking him straight in the eye. He couldn't look at Wormtail, couldn't look at the traitor. "Snape had the potion with him."

"Oh shit," Sirius turned just as Remus went still and began to shake.

Snape jumped up and tried to get the students to run, but they were frozen in fear. He was shaking, not seeming to be doing much better himself.

"You move traitor, and I'll kill you myself," Harry said, his wand pointed at Pettigrew as Sirius transformed.

"Harry," Pettigrew simpered, "sweet Harry. I wouldn't hurt you."

All the time Harry tried to ignore the screams from his uncle as he transformed, and the near hyperventilation from his friends and professor. He ignored his godfather, who was pacing between the transforming werewolf and the students.

"It wasn't my fault Harry," Pettigrew got down on his knees and pleaded. "The Dark Lord forced me. He has powers you wouldn't believe. He would have killed me."

Harry spat at him, "Then you should have died, like they would have died for you."

Snape was torn between getting the students he had up to the castle, and waiting to get Potter's attention as well, and then there was the werewolf that made the blood in his veins turn to ice and his whole body break out in a sweat.

It all happened in one instant, too quickly for anyone to predict. Remus finished his transformation and Sirius leapt at him, instant engaging him in a wrestling match, trying to draw him away from the humans.

Pettigrew transformed and Harry shot a cutting curse at him. Another curse shot from Snape's wand, but neither of them were direct hits. Harry suspected he had hurt the rat, but it ran off too quickly to go after him.

"Wormtail transformed!" Harry yelled, hoping his godfather would hear. "He's getting away again!"

There was a yelp and Harry saw Moony toss Padfoot. Padfoot flew up in the air and down onto the hill. He rolled and was out of sight, but there was no sound. He wouldn't have left them to get hurt, even if it meant letting Peter get away again.

Harry heard Snape suck in a breath behind him.

"Damn you Black."

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	30. Chapter 30

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**Chapter Thirty**

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"No!" Harry cried out when he saw Snape was going to try to step between them and Moony. Snape couldn't do anything more dangerous.

Harry flicked his wand and tossed his professor back to his friends.

"Potter! What are you doing?" Snape sounded furious.

Harry turned back and glared, "You want to die? Step between a werewolf and one of his cubs and see what happens!"

They all looked at him in open amazement. There was nothing written on how werewolves interacted with humans, because as far as Harry knew there was only one that did so openly. He walked towards Moony, who was snarling and baring his teeth.

"Harry," Draco's voice blended with Hermione's as they both pleaded with him.

"I know what I'm doing," Harry said calmly, confidently, not bothering to face them.

_It was just after dark and Harry's mother probably thought he was asleep. How could he sleep? Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs were outside playing at Moony's house and Harry wanted more than anything to play with them under the moon._

_He crept down the stairs to the fireplace and pulled a chair over. He climbed up and took a pinch of Floo powder out of the pot that rested on the mantle. The chair was returned and all Harry had to was to direct his will at the fireplace to get a fire to flare up. He threw in the pinch of powder and the flames turned green._

_'Moony's Lair!'_

_He spun through the Network and landed hard on Moony's tiled hearth. Usually when Harry went through the Floo there was someone to catch him when he landed, but he was only four years old so he didn't have far to fall._

_There was barking outside, and a howl. He could hear the pounding hoofs and excitement coursed through him. He wanted to run and dance and leap and play! Harry dashed outside with a huge grin on his face and he saw Padfoot and Prongs, and for the first time ever he saw Moony._

_His Uncle Moony was the first to know he was there and he turned and saw Harry and started running towards him. Harry grinned and waved. He was going to get to play._

Harry held out a calming hand to the recently transformed werewolf, who was snarling, the hair all along his back standing straight in the air. His friends were still pleading behind him and he suspected that Snape had gone mute in fear as Harry slowly kneeled on the grass.

_Prongs went away and his daddy was there, "No Harry! Go back! Run!"_

_"I want to play!" Harry yelled._

_His Daddy was running towards him with his wand out, and Padfoot changed into Uncle Sirius and took out his wand too. They both shot spells at Moony, but nothing stopped him from running towards Harry._

_Moony collided with him and sniffed him. He growled, and Harry growled back, what a fun game! Then Padfoot hit Moony and they tumbled away from Harry. Moony snapped and stood with his back to Harry, keeping Padfoot away. Harry felt a snap at his back and he was lifted into the air by Prongs, shirt in his father's teeth._

_Harry giggled. If this was what they did when they played it was so much fun! Prongs started galloping towards the house with Harry dangling in front of him and he heard a howl very close to them. Moony got in front of them and leapt._

_Moony hit them and Harry fell. It was a hard thump, but Harry had fallen further when Uncle Sirius took him for rides on Padfoot. Moony picked him up by his shirt and growled when Padfoot and Prongs got close._

_They were playing keep away with Harry! Moony backed away and put Harry down. He sniffed him again and licked his face._

_"Ick! Moony!" Harry giggled and wiped his face._

_Moony paced and Harry reached up to pet his snout. The fur wasn't as soft as Padfoot's. It was more wiry and bristly. Harry jumped up and ran, with Moony following him, Padfoot and Prongs right behind them. Moony's snout bumped Harry and he fell to his knees. Moony circled him and nuzzled his hair. _

_Padfoot whimpered and crawled towards them on his belly. Moony growled, and Padfoot whimpered again. The growl changed and the whimper was repeated. Padfoot came closer._

_"It's okay Moony," Harry whispered to the wolf. "I can play with Padfoot too."_

_Harry went over to Padfoot and growled at him like Moony. Then he pounced and rolled around with his godfather. Moony came over and separated them, and licked Harry's face again. He rubbed his side against Harry and Harry spit out the fur that got in his mouth._

_Moony nuzzled him again and Harry yawned, "Why don't you want me to play with Padfoot?"_

_Moony circled him again and curled up around Harry when Harry stretched and decided he would lie down on the grass for just a minute. He cuddled into the warmth of the wolf. He had done this with Padfoot before._

_"Merlin James," Harry heard Sirius say. "He... he..."_

_There was a low growl, and Harry recognized the warning tone. His eyes were closed and he reached up to hold onto Moony, "Play nice Moony."_

_He could hear his daddy crying, and wondered why. He couldn't figure out what was making Daddy cry, but he was so tired now. He had stayed up later than ever before and he felt sleep creeping up on him._

Harry had been grounded for a full month for that, missing a trip to the zoo, and had been lectured in detail about why it was bad to play with Moony. Harry had promised never to go again but he hadn't really understood. He wouldn't mind if he turned into a wolf like Remus and got to play with them every time the moon was full.

But then he heard his parents fighting. His mother was mad that his father and Sirius had told stories about playing with Moony and his father was mad that Harry had gotten past his mother. It was when he heard Remus crying that had cinched it. He went into Remus's room and crawled into bed with him.

Remus had held him tightly, "I could have killed you! I could have turned you! Harry promise me you'll never ever do that again!"

"Moony would never hurt me," Harry had said confidently, but he had still promised.

He had kept his word until he was thirteen. On his knees Harry whimpered, like Padfoot had that night. Moony had already tossed Padfoot down the hill and Harry knew that his godfather was unconscious. He would have been back otherwise to protect them.

Moony growled, then sniffed, and Harry stayed still.

He whimpered again, and tried to tell Moony who he was.

Moony stepped closer to him and sniffed, then nuzzled his head and licked him.

Harry lifted a hand to stroke Moony's head between his ears. He nuzzled his nose in Moony's fur and Moony whined. Harry smiled, "I know Moony. Wormtail is here Moony. Remember Wormtail? Go after Wormtail Moony. Get Wormtail. Get the rat."

Harry pulled back and sniffed the ground where he knew Wormtail had been. He couldn't smell anything except dirt but he knew Moony would. There was blood there, and Harry knew that either he or Snape had hurt the rat. Moony sniffed where Harry did and his lips curled back. He growled, low and vicious, then sniffed again and ran off, following the scent. There was a howl.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice hitched as if she was crying. Harry looked back to see that every one of his friends was shaking and breathing hard. Snape was frozen with a look of pure fear on his face. Neville wasn't faring much better.

He stood up and spread his arms to show he was unharmed, "I'm fine, see?"

Draco glared at him, "What in Merlin's name did you think you were doing?"

"I was keeping Moony from having all of you for an after dinner snack!" Harry snapped back. "He can't hurt me, I'm..."

"No, no please no."

"Sirius!" Harry yelled.

He felt the air around him grow colder, and he started to hear his mother's screams in the distance. The reason his godfather was pleading swept through him, an icy wind. Harry gripped his wand and started running. He used everything he knew from practicing Occlumency to push the dementors away and raised his wand.

He was slipping and sliding down the hill, tripping over rocks, pushing through branches, getting scratches and small cuts, but he didn't care. He summoned up the happiest memory he could and pointed his wand at his godfather, "_Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver mist jumped out of his wand and was almost a clear form but it fizzled. Harry tried to find a happier memory. He could hear shouts and footsteps behind him, "_Expecto Patronum."_

The silver mist didn't even get near to corporeal that time. Harry knew there were people behind him. Sirius was lying on the ground with a dementor lowering towards him, "Help me! Think happy thoughts."

"_Expecto..._" Harry heard weakly behind him.

Harry fell to his knees only a few steps from Sirius but he kept trying, "_Expecto... Expecto... Pat..._"

There were other voices behind them, trying to repeat the spell Harry was trying, but one by one he heard people fall to the ground.

A black shape blocked his view of his godfather and he heard the raspy breaths of the dementor. It lowered its hood and all Harry could feel was the air rushing from behind him. His mother's screams were all he could hear, and then they too started to fade.

He knew that any moment now he would lose his soul. Just before the blackness all around him closed in he saw bright silver, and Moony coming towards him, only Moony was all silver and glowing, and behind the silver was a human shape with familiar messy hair.

"Dad," Harry said and fell.

Bright lights hurt his eyes, and Harry tried to squeeze them shut.

"He's awake!" Neville's voice was the first he heard, shaky.

"Harry!" Draco was nearby too.

Harry opened his eyes. He heard sobbing and looked over to see Hermione next to Ron's bed. The redhead looked pale.

"His leg is broken," Neville explained softly. "He fell down the hill when we chased after you. It was bad."

Harry nodded. He didn't see his godfather anywhere. He reached up and grabbed Neville, "Where's Siri?" Neville looked away and Harry felt sick. "It was too late? The dementors got him?"

Neville and Draco both looked horrified, "No!"

"Harry," Neville sat down next to him. "The Minister is still here. He's claiming that Sirius let Pettigrew away, that it's his fault Remus transformed without his potion, that he should have chased after Pettigrew and left Snape to take care of protecting us. He's putting Sirius under arrest."

"What?" Harry leapt out of his bed. "That bloody bastard! He just wants to cover his own ass! He can't send him back there!"

Draco wrapped both arms and held Harry back from running off to find the Minister, "You can't do anything about it!"

Dumbledore came into the wing then, looking every year of his age, "Harry, I must ask that you do not go after the Minister."

"But Professor," Harry protested.

"Harry," Dumbledore's eyes weren't twinkling. He looked grave as he held Harry's gaze with his, "if you work quickly you can save two lives tonight."

"How?" Harry felt the hope slipping away from him, and Draco released him.

Poppy was at Ron's bed, working on his leg, and Hermione stood and came over to them, "Two lives sir?"

"What you need, Miss Granger, is more time," Dumbledore said quietly. "Three turns aught to do it, and remember... you know the laws, you must not be seen." He then spoke more loudly, "Poppy, I will be locking the door to make sure the children do not leave."

"Yes Albus," Poppy looked over and caught Harry's eye, winking.

Dumbledore left the ward and Harry, Neville, and Draco were all staring at Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably and brought a necklace out from under her robes.

"Bloody hell," Draco said, his voice holding something of awe, "where did you get a time turner?"

"That's how you've been getting to classes!" Harry exclaimed.

"So that's why you look like you never sleep," Neville said sadly.

Hermione nodded, "McGonagall gave it to me at the beginning of the year. I've been using it all year to go back and get to all my classes. She got special permission from the Ministry, and had to write all sorts of letters and tell them what a model student I am and how I wouldn't use it for anything except classes."

Harry snorted, "Why do we always end up breaking the law?"

Draco smirked, "I've always wanted to use a time turner."

"Oh hush," Hermione scolded them. She lengthened the chain and slipped it around all their necks, though they had to stand very close for it to fit. She turned the hourglass three times and the hours flashed backwards before their eyes in only a second's time.

"What did he mean, two lives?" Hermione asked, her voice perplexed.

Harry shook his head, "Wait. We should get out of here first."

They snuck out of the hospital wing and slipped into the corridors, darting into empty classrooms whenever they heard someone coming.

"So that's why you were mad at Snape? He taught that class on werewolves?" Draco asked Harry while they waited for the students leaving dinner to go by.

Harry nodded, "Remus has never hurt anyone, but Sirius played a nasty prank on Snape when they were all in school and he saw Remus transformed."

The other three all flinched, now knowing exactly what that would do to someone.

"Is that when James saved his life?" Neville said quietly.

"Yeah," Harry looked down.

They had time now, as they waited for the rest of the student body to finish their dinners and clear out of the entrance hall. He told them the whole story, how the Marauders found out what Remus was, how they became animagi to be with him during the full moons, how the friendship fell apart and suspicion took hold, how Sirius suggested that his parents use Peter as their actual Secret Keeper and leave Sirius as a decoy.

He told them about Azkaban and what he saw when the dementors were near, finishing with his guesses about why Snape had saved his life his first year, "and I don't think Snape has ever forgiven them." He looked at Hermione, "When did you guess?"

"After I did the essay for Snape," Hermione said as if Harry should have known. "I looked at the lunar calendar and it coincided with Professor Lupin's absences and when he looked sick, and his boggart was a full moon." He and Draco exchanged a look and Draco shrugged. "You mean he didn't assign it to the Slytherins? That figures. He is so..."

Harry slapped a hand over her mouth before she could get going, "The corridor is empty. We should get going."

They made it out of the castle, then ducked behind the greenhouses when they heard themselves coming. It was a strange sensation, watching yourself.

"Harry...," Neville sounded uncertain, "what are we going to do?"

He didn't know exactly, but Harry had an idea, "Dumbledore said two lives. Who else was in danger of losing their life tonight?"

"Buckbeak," Draco answered immediately, much to Hermione's surprise, with a little gulp and his eyes averted.

"So we have to head down to Hagrid's, make sure no one sees us, save Buckbeak from right under the Minister's nose, and then rescue Sirius," Harry laughed, though he saw no mirth in the situation. "Piece of cake."

"Shh," Hermione warned them all. "Anyone know any disguise spells?"

Harry and Neville exchanged glances and Neville smiled, but it was a nervous, unsure smile. Harry hesitated, but if they had been trained for anything, this was exactly the type of situation their parents had prepared them for. He felt a rush of anger... _Why couldn't Dumbledore take care of this?_

"Hold still guys," Harry told Hermione and Draco, "this will feel a little weird. Nev you get yourself and 'Mione. I'll take care of myself and Dray. We all meet behind Hagrid's house, around from the door we left by."

There were nods and Harry tapped his head with his wand, muttering the incantation for the Disillusionment Charm, hearing Neville do the same, and then they repeated the action for their friends.

Harry took a deep breath once they were all blended into their surroundings and headed down towards Hagrid's house.

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	31. Chapter 31

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**Chapter Thirty-One**

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They regrouped behind Hagrid's house, hidden in some bushes, and removed the Charms. It was a tight squeeze, and Harry found himself between Draco and Neville.

"Where did you two learn all this?" Hermione asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry bit his lip, knowing that some answer was called for, but that they couldn't possibly tell her everything.

Neville took care of the explanation though, "My parents are Aurors, James and Siri are Aurors, Remus has written loads of books, Lily is a spell creator, and all their friends are Aurors or Hit Wizards or Obliviators. They've all taught us stuff."

Hermione didn't seem entirely pleased, "But that can't have been the first time you cast it. When did you practice?"

On Harry's other side Draco snorted, "Please Granger. Don't tell me you haven't figured out by now that there are dozens of ways to get around the Underage Restrictions. The only reason they were ever put in place was so muggle-borns didn't give us all away on holiday. I don't know who a single pureblood who actually follows that law."

"Weasleys," Harry supplied.

Draco sneered, "Figures."

The Gryffindor girl looked offended, but Neville silenced her with a look, "Now is not the time 'Mione."

Harry silently cheered Neville for standing up to Hermione like that. She looked like she was going to argue but then nodded and they waited, pressed up against the stones of the house. Harry could feel the heat of Draco's body next to him, and he wondered why that heat affected him, made him feel warm himself, when no other heat usually did.

They could hear male voices approaching and picked most of them out easily, the Headmaster and the Minister, and two others that had to be the executioner and the representative from the Department of Dangerous Creatures.

"That's McNair," Malfoy said quietly, "the younger one of them. He's friends with my father."

Harry and Neville exchanged looks again, quickly. That left only one assumption for them. If McNair was considered Malfoy Senior's friend, and he was in a low Ministry position like that, then he had to be a former Death Eater. _This just gets better and better,_ Harry thought. He had no doubt that McNair would be reporting back to Draco's father to assure him everything went well... or in this case that everything was seriously botched up.

Harry crept out from behind the bushes slowly, keeping low to the ground.

"Harry," Hermione hissed.

He looked back, "We have to know when we're out of sight."

He watched the four of them, plus Ron, as the cloak slid off his shoulders and they went closer to the Willow. At the front of the house, Dumbledore suggested they all go inside to review the Order of Execution and make sure everything was in order and properly signed.

When the door closed Harry motioned for the others to come out, "We have to get Buckbeak now and hide him until..."

"Until when?" Draco asked.

Harry licked his lips, "I'm not sure."

Around the house, and through the pumpkin patch to where Buckbeak was tied up, they crept as quietly as possible. Draco stayed to their rear as Harry bowed deeply before the hippogriff, praying for it to bow back so he could lead it away. Sweat started to drip from his forehead and Harry urged Buckbeak along silently.

Finally, the knees bent and the eagle head sank to the ground. Harry jumped forward and stroked the feathers on Buckbeak's head while Hermione unlocked the chain tying him to Hagrid's fence. It took both of them to pull the hippogriff back into the woods where they could hide in the dense trees.

Draco was shivering slightly when they got there, "I hate this forest."

"You're not alone," Harry responded with a shudder, remembering the last time he was in there and the specter of Voldemort drinking the unicorn blood from the back of Quirrell's head.

"Harry," Neville started, "there's something I don't understand."

In the distance, Neville stunned Harry and the Neville next to him gave him a nervous laugh and apologetic look. Harry waved it away and briefly touched where the dagger was sheathed at his side. The gesture was not lost on his sworn brother.

Harry could practically feel the snarky comment forming in Draco's brain and he gave the blond a preemptive kick in the shin. Draco glared and rubbed his leg, and Harry just gave him a pointed look. It was then that they saw McNair swing his axe in frustration and bury it in one of Hagrid's pumpkins. Every one of them flinched, knowing that was supposed to be Buckbeak's neck.

"What is it Nev?" Harry asked patiently. They had time to spare. He saw Remus coming out of the castle with Ron, and Sirius from the path from Hogsmeade. Harry wondered if he had been following Wormtail's scent. Dumbledore, the Minister, and the others headed back towards the castle once Remus was gone.

"When the dementors attacked..." Neville was clearly nervous and Hermione and Draco both watched him with interest. "How did we all get away? It looked like you and Sirius were about to be kissed..."

"And you didn't see what happened after?" The others shook their heads. Harry looked down and accidentally let his hold on Buckbeak slacken. The hippogriff tugged at his line and almost dragged Harry away, but Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and together they were able to steady him.

Harry took a deep breath, "I'm not really sure. I couldn't produce a Patronus, and I kept trying... and then there was a dementor right in front of me and it..."

Draco's hand was still on his back, "Harry?"

"It lowered its hood," Harry said in a half-whisper, reliving the moment as he told it. He felt his throat close up and remembered his mother's screams and his father yelling at her to take Harry and run.

"You mean, you saw?" Hermione was both horrified and interested.

Harry nodded, "and then there was all this silver light and... Moony."

"Moony came back?" Neville squeaked.

"No," Harry shook his head. "Moony was the Patronus. I thought I saw my Dad on the other side of the lake... but that doesn't make sense. He's not here... and our Patronuses wouldn't be the same. It's individual to every wizard who conjures one."

Draco laughed and Harry, Neville, and Hermione all looked at him in confusion. "It's obvious! You have far too much Gryffindor in you Harry." Neville and Hermione both looked insulted and Draco smiled at them. "It was your Patronus, just like at the quidditch match."

Harry just blinked, and his jaw dropped, "But if I saw that, why was Sirius in danger if we saved him?"

He got three shrugs in response.

"Look," Hermione said plainly. "We have to get you to the other side of the lake before the dementors show up so you can cast that Patronus. Draco can go with you, and Neville and I will stay with Buckbeak."

Harry thought for a moment and nodded, then pointed his wand. _Accio Invisibility Cloak!_ Minutes later the cloak appeared in his hand. He handed it, along with a bar of chocolate to Neville, "When the dementors leave revive Sirius and bring him back here to Buckbeak. We'll meet you here, then we can all get back to the castle and Siri can get out."

"Um, one problem," Hermione was pale and a little shaky.

"Hermione?" Harry turned all his attention to her. He heard howls in the distance, but they didn't register until she spoke again.

"Professor Lupin is about run this way."

"Hagrid's house," Neville said firmly and this time they all ran, Harry dragging Buckbeak along behind them.

They were all safely locked inside as they heard the yelp of Sirius behind tossed down the hill. There was a pause and they knew that up the hill Harry was talking to Moony, putting himself between the werewolf and his friends and professor.

"Thanks Harry," Draco said, his face just a little more pale than usual.

Hermione and Neville both nodded firmly and echoed him, "Yeah, thanks."

"Don't expect to hear it from Ron," Hermione snorted.

"Or Severus," Draco smirked. "I think he's fairly had it with Potters saving his life."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Remind me next time and I'll let Moony eat him."

There was a little bit of nervous laughter and they all listened as Moony howled, his sounds getting further and further away. When they judged it safe they left the house again, and returned to their previous hiding spot. Harry and Draco left for the lake.

"Do you always carry chocolate in your pocket?" Draco teased.

"As of this year, yes I do," Harry said firmly. "So long as there are dementors, I'm carrying chocolate."

Draco shook his head, "You're turning into an Auror already."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Harry smirked superiorly, "even if it wasn't intended as such."

They circled around the lake and waited. Draco sat on a log with his wand out, eyes searching the shadows.

"Harry?"

"Yeah Dray?" Harry's eyes were trained on the far shore.

He heard a sigh, "Nothing."

Harry let the silence stay for a few moments, "You sure?"

"Yes," Draco said after a slight hesitation. "You can keep calling me Dray though. I think I like it... just not around my father."

"No problem," Harry smiled, feeling oddly happy despite the situation.

The happiness was short-lived, as the effects of the dementors drew near and Harry felt every bit of positive thought being pulled from him. He tried to gather himself, and he thought back to the Quidditch Cup, that sense of victory and achievement. He raised his wand.

_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_

Harry put every bit of magic, every ounce of strength he had into that one Charm. He poured himself fully into it, not at all thinking about using his elemental abilities to help combat the soul-sucking creatures. Just as two absolutely disgusting heads lowered to his face across the lake and to Sirius, Harry felt a burst of magic race through his body and shoot out his wand.

Silver blinded him, and Harry felt more connected to that spell than any he had ever performed before. It pulled from his entire body and fed the Charm, sending the silver out, Moony bounding to the rescue, snarling at the dementors that fled before him.

He felt arms behind him as he began to sag, holding him up. The dementors were gone, and his wand was down, but Harry couldn't remember lowering it. Moony came back across the lake and nuzzled him one more time before fading away on the wind.

Across the lake Sirius woke up and ate some chocolate that was offered to him from the invisible Neville. Harry felt a surge of pride. Neville had remembered the spell to wake Sirius. His godfather stood and disappeared under the cloak with Neville just as Snape came to and started conjuring stretchers for the fallen students.

"Come on Harry," Draco wrapped Harry's left arm around his shoulders and helped him back to the spot where Hermione and Buckbeak waited.

They got there almost the same time that Sirius and Neville did, the two of them dropping the cloak as soon as Snape was gone. Sirius took Harry from Draco and hugged him tightly, giving him the other half of the chocolate bar. Harry took it gratefully and felt his whole body lighten.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" Sirius snapped, looking from the teenagers, to the spot where they had all been unconscious just moments ago, back to them standing there again.

Hermione blushed and pulled out her time turner and Sirius's eyes bugged. He started laughing, "Remus told me he was teaching you the Patronus. That was yours?"

Harry nodded and then stumbled when Buckbeak butted his head against Harry's back. He reached over his shoulder to pet the hippogriff, "Sirius, this is Hagrid's hippogriff Buckbeak. The two of you need to get out of here."

Sirius looked perplexed and Neville jumped in, "Fudge is going to blame you for Wormtail getting away. He's issuing an arrest warrant. You need to get back to the Manor _now!_"

"That no good, pompous..."

"_Padfoot!_" Harry and Neville snapped together, having long practice cutting his rants off before they began.

Sirius nodded, "I've got to get your Dad in on this Harry, and Amelia too. Up there... with Moony... you..."

"I've told you before Padfoot," Harry's voice was quiet but assured, "Moony can't hurt me."

Harry was pulled into an almost rib crushing hug. He felt his godfather shaking slightly and his eyes were moist when he pulled back, "Remus is going to be very upset with you. I think that we'll leave that part our secret. Your mum and dad don't need to go through that again."

"I'll see you in a few days," Harry said quietly as Hermione passed Buckbeak's chain to Sirius.

"Get back to the castle now," Sirius gave them all a stern look, "and that's an order." His face softened and he smiled, "I'm proud of you Cub."

Sirius bowed, and Buckbeak returned the gesture quickly, letting Sirius climb onto his back almost immediately. Harry wondered if it was the animagus in his godfather that let him relate to other animals so well, or maybe Buckbeak just somehow understood the urgency of the situation. With a solid flap of his great wings Buckbeak took off and the teenagers watched for just a minute as the hippogriff and man faded into the distance.

"We only have five minutes!" Hermione exclaimed, looking down at her watch.

Disillusionment Charms were cast quickly again and they ran as fast as their legs could carry them towards the castle, Invisibility Cloak in Neville's pocket. They were all out of breath when they reached the hospital wing, just as Dumbledore was about to lock it.

The Headmaster looked right at them and tapped each of them on their heads with his wand.

"Everything went well sir," Hermione said.

Dumbledore just stared beyond them, "Excuse me? I thought I heard voices."

The headmaster stuck one of his fingers in one of his ears and twisted it around as if trying to clean out some wax. He shrugged, then started humming a tune Harry had never heard as he fiddled his fingers and walked down the corridor towards his office.

Draco looked taken aback, a bit disturbed, and Hermione's jaw was dropped. Harry and Neville just rolled their eyes, having far too much experience with Dumbledore's odd personality. They ushered their friends into the hospital wing. Poppy bustled over to them and ordered them each into a bed, calling for a house elf to bring hot chocolate.

"If I never eat chocolate again it will be too soon," Harry muttered grumpily into his mug, remembering when chocolate had been the most incredible flavor imaginable. He would never be able to eat it again without thinking of dementors.

Neville was the first of them to laugh, followed by Draco and Hermione. Harry just stuck his tongue out at them and proceeded to drink his hot chocolate. They were all startled when the door banged open and the Minister stormed in, followed by a calm, twinkling Headmaster. Snape was not far behind, glowering as usual.

"Where is he?" Fudge demanded from the foot of Harry's bed.

Harry blinked, "It would help if I knew who you were talking about sir."

"Black," Fudge spat, "that precious godfather of yours. Where is he?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm sorry sir I can't help you there." Harry didn't dare look at Snape. "I haven't seen him since I was home for the last holiday. Actually no, that's wrong. He came to breakfast just this morning. Tonks was here too."

Fudge spun on Snape, "Well?"

"I could have been mistaken," Snape said through clenched teeth. "One large black mutt looks much like another and I am not very familiar with his animagus form, nor do I wish to be."

"What about Lupin?" Fudge was getting desperate it seemed.

"Professor Lupin did not attack us after he transformed sir," Harry said as calmly as possible, adding in as much deferential tone as he could. "He chased after Wormtail."

Fudge looked blustered, knowing he was defeated. He spun on Dumbledore, "How did Pettigrew get onto school grounds?"

"It appears the dementors did not do their jobs," Dumbledore looked down at Fudge over his spectacles, his eyes hard, no twinkle present whatsoever.

The Minister swallowed and his angry blustering changed to a false show of concern, "Nearly performing the kiss on a student. Yes... they will be gone immediately. You are alright Harry?"

"My soul appears to be firmly affixed in my body," Harry responded, suddenly grateful the hot chocolate was refilling itself. It gave him something to do other than look at Fudge. "I hate to think how my father will react when he hears of this though."

Fudge paled and stammered out a farewell before almost fleeing the hospital wing. Once it was assured he was out of sight Snape gave Harry a searching look, followed by a glare to Neville and Hermione. Draco he completely ignored.

"That was your Patronus Potter," Snape said darkly. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

"Severus!" Poppy exclaimed. "These children have been in their beds since you brought them here. I am ashamed!"

Harry just looked his Head of House in the eye, then lowered his eyes immediately when he felt the man begin to probe into his mind, not willing to give away his skill at Occlumency. So Snape knew Legilimency. This was a year Harry wouldn't forget soon though, and he was still rather angry with Snape for his attempts to sabotage Remus, even though he knew Remus would be gone at the end of the year regardless.

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	32. Chapter 32

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**Chapter Thirty-Two**

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"So Fudge comes here immediately of course... after we go through this ridiculously long process of confirming his identity, making sure he hasn't used Polyjuice, and altering the wards to admit him," Sirius was laughing as he told Harry the story of his narrow escape from Fudge's blame game.

Escaping Fudge, or kissing his Ministerial arse, was a skill cultivated by every Auror that wanted to keep their job. The Marauders were the only ones who thoroughly enjoyed themselves in the process, discretely pranking the man all in the name of security and precaution.

"It took a couple of hours overall and by the time he was in the Manor James and Amelia had tweaked the duty roster to show that the full moon was a night when no Aurors were stationed to be at Hogwarts, and I was supposedly in my office all night."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "And where were you during the inquisition?"

"In my office!" Sirius looked offended. "I was waiting for Fudge at my desk, with Amelia there of course, and we were going over various 'Pettigrew Sightings'. The kicker though Harry... you're going to love this one... all this time Buckbeak was in my room here with your mother trying to keep him quiet and calm!"

"You left Mum with him?" Harry glared at his godfather.

Sirius ruffled his hair, and Harry pulled away, doing his best to make sure there were no more knots than normal, "Calm down Cub. Your Mum was amazing in Care of Magical Creatures. The day she can't handle one hippogriff is the day I forgive that rat."

It was that moment that Lily Potter came into Harry's room, cleaning her hands off with a rag. By the look of things she had just been feeding Buckbeak, "Speaking of hippogriffs, precisely what did you two intend to do with him? We can't keep him in the Manor, and he's not exactly welcome in this country."

Harry and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged. Harry contemplated asking Hagrid, but he knew that Hagrid wouldn't be able to keep the secret. A solution came to mind and he grinned, "Say Siri, where do Hagrid's other illegal pets end up?"

"Hagrid's...," Sirius caught on and grinned. "That might work."

Remembering his mother was there Harry schooled his face into an innocent expression and saw that his godfather had done the same.

"You are much better at that than your father ever was," Lily sighed and shook her head. "Don't bother, I'm sure I don't want to know."

"You'll contact Charlie then?" Harry asked his godfather once his mother had left the room.

He liked Buckbeak, but a Manor was no place for a hippogriff and the sooner he was gone the better. As it was, his godfather's bedroom had to be warded against any of the younger Potter siblings entering it for fear that Buckbeak would attack them.

Sirius tried to ruffle his godson's hair again but Harry dodged, a scowl on his face. The scowl reminded Sirius far too much of Snape, but he knew that mentioning that would not help him at all. The nearly fourteen year old was not at all happy with Snape recently, and Sirius gathered it had something to do with Remus. Neither Harry nor Remus would comment on it though, which only made Sirius and James suspect the worst.

He gleaned that Snape was not very pleased Harry either. Now he owed not one, but two Potters a life debt for saving him from the same werewolf. Harry had saved quite a few people that night, and chances were the youngest Weasley boy was not pleased to owe him a debt either. For once Sirius was glad that his godson was friends with the Malfoy heir. _That_ debt could come in very useful in the following years, if their suspicions were at all accurate.

Neville's report of the prediction from Trelawney had them all nervous. The Ministry was not at all prepared for Voldemort to return, especially not worse than he was the last time around. The very thought made his spine creep.

Before he thought on that too much, though, Sirius had a task to finish. He had to get the hippogriff out of Potter Manor before Lily decided she had enough. As good an Auror as he was, as many Death Eaters as he'd faced and captured, very few things scared him quite as much as a furious Lily Potter.

So as soon as he left Harry's room Sirius set about composing a letter, as discreet as possible, to see if Charlie Weasley had any good suggestions for where to loose Buckbeak... and assure that the hippogriff wouldn't come running back to Hagrid.

Many people saw Hagrid's fascination with all kinds of deadly creatures as extremely dangerous, but they never looked past the public nature of the creatures to see the loyalty that Hagrid inspired in them. Sirius had no doubt that if he let Buckbeak go free outside the Manor they would be able to find him at Hogwarts within days.

Over a week passed with no response from Charlie, and Sirius wondered if perhaps he was no longer in Romania. He had addressed the letter as if the second oldest Weasley was still there, but if he wasn't the owl would have to find him on her own.

His nights were becoming difficult again. Sirius did not want to admit it to anyone in the Manor, but his nightmares were back. For years after his incarceration in Azkaban Sirius had terrible nightmares that he suspected never would have gone away without Harry. His godson was only two years old at the time, but he somehow knew what was going on and had started sleeping in Sirius's bed only a few days after they all settled in Longbottom Hall.

It was at times like that when Sirius most regretted his many affairs. He would wake in the middle of night coated in sweat to an empty dark room. Buckbeak had been moved to the attic, for fear of Sirius's nightmares startling the hippogriff. When Sirius had mentioned moving Buckbeak Lily had given him a sympathetic look and nodded, immediately asking the house elves to prepare the attic.

He hated the looks she gave him, which were soon picked up by James and Remus as well. It would only take a week or maybe less for Frank and Alice to join in.

Sirius doubted he would get much more sleep that night, so he slipped out of bed and found a dressing gown. There was always at least one house elf awake, and he could use some hot chocolate right about then to chase away the terrors.

Down the stairs he stumbled, seeking a lit fireplace where he could warm the unnatural chill out of his bones, the remnant of mere memories about dementors. Sirius was surprised to find that he wasn't the only one awake. There was another figure huddled on a sofa in front of the parlor fire.

For the first time, Sirius had difficulty discerning the difference between father and son. Harry had certainly grown somewhat. He would never be as tall as his father thanks to the miserable Dursleys, but seated, from behind, they were identical.

"Hey."

It was Harry's voice, and Sirius wondered how he knew there was someone else there. He got closer and saw that Harry already had his own mug of steaming hot chocolate. Another popped into existence on the coffee table and Sirius sat down next to his godson, just the act of picking up the mug and breathing in its scent enough to start warming him.

"Can't sleep?" Sirius questioned.

Harry didn't look at him, but continued to stare at the flames in front of him, "No."

"Me too," Sirius sighed and sipped the rich beverage. He was constantly amazed at how efficient the Potter elves were, so frequently anticipating the needs of the occupants of the Manor. They even gave him cinnamon sugar coated marshmallows, his favorite. "Nightmares again."

"Me too," Harry echoed his sigh.

When had Harry learned to sigh like that, like he was weighted down with years of trials and responsibilities? It frightened Sirius that his godson sounded like an adult, one that had seen too much, lived through too much.

"Want to talk about it?" Harry asked, still apparently enthralled by the flames.

Sirius took a long drink and felt the chill fade to a memory of pain instead of a living reminder, "Dementors. I see the Manor in ruins, James and Lily dead, you with that scar a fresh wound screaming for your parents. Then there's my family, and Azkaban."

"I see Voldemort killing Mum," Harry told him and Sirius felt his heart skip a beat. He thought that Harry didn't remember, that those dreams had stopped for good. Harry's voice was cold and dull. "I see Uncle Vernon, and Voldemort drinking unicorn blood, and Quirrell dying, and the basilisk, and Ginny slumped on the Chamber floor, and the dementor leaning over you... and me..."

"You were conscious?" Sirius was amazed, and couldn't keep the awe out of his voice.

Harry nodded, "I used Occlumency to try to keep them out, and I was so focused on you, and trying to push away Mum's screams, and all of a sudden there was one in front of me and it lowered its hood..."

Sirius put his arm around Harry and drew the boy close. He ignored the house elf who appeared and wrapped a blanket around both of them, then lifted their feet onto pillows placed on the table, another blanket tucked over their legs and feet. It wasn't long before they both fell asleep, further nightmares warded away for the remainder of the night.

JAMES was on the warpath ever since that night, and the entire Ministry cringed just slightly whenever he walked through a corridor, although stalked was perhaps a better word. He had spent hours berating the Minister for the decision to place dementors around Hogwarts, and reminded him several times that both he and Amelia had advised against such an act.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the only one not tensed against the entrance of the Head Auror. The only reason they were exempt from the fear of James Potter's wrath was because they were equally angry that Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom had found themselves in such a situation. The entire department had a soft spot for those two, remembering well the days after James and Lily returned and the Longbottoms were attacked.

Every Auror and Hit Wizard employed at the time had visited Longbottom Hall to see to the health of their coworkers and their families. In the years that followed Harry and Neville, and then Harry's younger siblings, became common visitors to the Department. Those were the only times Harry even came close to appearing in public until he had to shop for his Hogwarts supplies. His parents had kept him as far away from his fame as they could.

SIRIUS winced as he heard James's office door slam closed. As a Team Leader, Sirius had his office near James's and he could judge his best friend's mood based on how hard James closed his door. This was about as bad as it got, when Sirius's door rattled in its own frame. He doubted he would ever forget the look on James and Lily's faces when he told them Harry had nearly been kissed, and would have been without some tricky, and certainly illegal, use of a time turner and Remus's instruction early that year.

He knew that none of them blamed him, not James, Lily, or Harry, but Sirius had been burying himself in work that summer to ward off his guilt. It was his duty, as godfather, to protect Harry, and he had been right there and failed all the same. Harry had been the one to save him instead, to save all of them, first from Moony and then the dementors.

Fudge's anger had only succeeded in getting Sirius and his team assigned to one of the most ridiculous tasks of the summer, security preparations for the Quidditch World Cup. It was important work, but Sirius knew he would be much more useful tracking Peter.

Fudge had insisted that Sirius be removed from that case though, and Amelia and James had made some bargain with him that Sirius wasn't privy to. He only knew that James was still sending him out on occasion to follow up on a 'Pettigrew Sighting'. The only good part was that he had plenty of time to spend at the Manor and Lily had finally agreed to let him teach Harry how to drive his motorbike.

It had surprised Sirius, and made him feel all warm and sappy inside, when Harry had woken him from a nightmare and climbed into his bed. With Harry almost an adult it was approaching inappropriate, but if it helped them both to heal then no one was going to object.

Sirius had no doubt that Lily knew, as she knew everything that happened in the Manor, much like Albus knew everything that went on in Hogwarts, but she also knew that Sirius could never see Harry as anything other than his godson, or even more so, the son he would probably never have.

The _Daily Prophet_ arrived on his desk, as it did on every desk in the building. Each department paid a lowered price for every employee to receive the paper, the better to spread false rumors with, as the Aurors often joked. After all, the paper hadn't said a word about Harry's run-in with the dementors or Peter's escape from Hogwarts.

The standing theory was that he had run as fast as he could, transformed, and apparated away. Remus had said he hadn't eaten anything that night, though his memory from his transformations was hazy at best without his potion.

For once there was actually an article that interested Sirius. He couldn't imagine a family more deserving.

**ARTHUR WEASLEY, HEAD OF THE DEPARMENT FOR THE MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTIFACTS WINS _DAILY PROPHET_ ANNUAL GALLEON DRAW**

Sirius grinned. Arthur Weasley was one of his favorite wizards. After the mess with his enchanted Ford Anglia, Sirius had made it a point to meet with the man and arrived on his flying motorcycle, which was grandfathered under the law. They had spent a whole afternoon going over the charms and enchantments under Molly's disapproving glare.

He read the article in detail and a few things fell together. The Weasleys were planning on using the prize money to visit Bill in Egypt. If Charlie was already there then Sirius's owl was probably having difficulty finding him.

There was a self-updating appointment calendar on Sirius's wall, as he had almost no organizational skills of his own, and it showed that he had to go to Bulgaria to meet with their Ministry regarding security for the World Cup. He had already been to Ireland a dozen times, and they were finally satisfied.

He could swing by Egypt on his way home. No one at the Ministry would notice, as extra time was allotted for traveling on Ministry business to foreign nations. True, Sirius would have a representative from the Department of International Magical Cooperation with him, and one from the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but he could just ditch whoever they were.

It took two days to thoroughly plan out his side trip, gather together all the materials he needed for the trip to Bulgaria, and stop by the site of the Stadium to assess the progress his team was making and assure that Tonks hadn't broken the stands yet.

"Ready to go Old Boy?" a jovial voice asked from the corridor outside his office.

Sirius looked up to see Ludo Bagman with a duffle bag in one hand, and Barty Crouch standing behind him looking irritated. Sirius held no sympathy for the man whatsoever. He was the one who locked Sirius away in Azkaban without a trial, without even having the Aurors question him, claiming they would be biased towards one of their own.

James had already heard an earful for assigning him to a project where he had to work with Crouch, and had apologized profusely, but had not budged. Sirius had always been good with languages, and had taught himself at least the basics of Bulgarian over the last couple of weeks. James had also promised that there was a good reason Sirius's team was securing the World Cup stadium, but wouldn't share beyond that.

"Just a minute," Sirius intentionally kept them waiting while he shuffled papers around and filed some away. He had no problem with Bagman, who was actually rather fun and always good for a wager, yet another innocent man who had been accused during the last war.

Once Crouch started to shift from foot to foot Sirius stood, summoned his own bag without using his wand, one of the few wandless spells he could reliably perform, and shrunk it before slipping it into his pocket. Bagman's eyes widened slightly and his grin wobbled, while Crouch just refused to meet Sirius's eyes.

They were taking a thestral coach to get to Bulgaria, to impress the locals no doubt, and Sirius would just get out of the ride back by claiming he had Auror business to attend to. In an attempt to avoid Crouch Sirius took out his plans for the Stadium and Camping Grounds, enhanced thanks to Moony's Marauder Map charms, and made some notations on the parchment in his lap. He succeeded avoiding inane conversation for the first hour of the trip.

"Black...," Crouch tried to get his attention and Sirius pretended not to hear. "Black... BLACK!" Crouch yanked down the plans and Sirius glared at him.

"You needn't yell Bartemius," Sirius only barely contained his disdain for the man and Bagman's eyes widened again. Sirius wondered if the man knew that his two companions would just as soon hex each other to pieces as look at each other.

Crouch ground his teeth, "I could just let you find out later, but you might embarrass us." Sirius just raised his eyebrows. "We have a secondary purpose for this trip. We'll be meeting with Headmaster Karkaroff from Durmstrang, as Hogwarts will be hosting the TriWizard Tournament this year."

Sirius refused to allow his shock to show. He was going to kill James for keeping this from him. No wonder he had assigned Sirius to the Quidditch Cup. It ended just before the school year began and Sirius would then be available for security for the Tournament. Dark activity was increasing, and having guests at Hogwarts from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons was just begging for trouble.

"Very well," Sirius made himself appear bored. "I'll assure he doesn't kill you."

Crouch's eyes flashed, "Karkaroff is the Headmaster of one of Europe's elite schools for magic..."

"Karkaroff was a Death Eater," Sirius cut him off sharply. "You may think that his handing several names over to the Ministry redeems him somehow, but I'll keep my eyes on his wand if it's all the same."

Bagman shifted uncomfortably. He had fallen under suspicion as a direct result of Karkaroff's naming names. Unspeakable Rookwood had been getting information from Bagman for years. The former Beater was only guilty of trusting a family friend, and Sirius knew he was guilty of the same.

The meetings went much as expected. Bagman didn't speak a word of the language, but most of the Bulgarians spoke English, even if they had a heavy accent. Sirius and his Bulgarian counterpart separated off instantly, going over the plans and every aspect of security, from who was allowed in the Top Box to ensuring that the players didn't get mobbed by fans. Each of them spoke at least some of the other's language, which made the meeting go much more smoothly than it would have otherwise.

Karkaroff was unfriendly and brisk, much like Snape. Sirius found the comparison apt, both men Death Eaters that had turned to save their own hides from the dementors. A few details for the Tournament were ironed out between Karkaroff and Crouch, including deciding on the nature of the second task.

Sirius almost laughed, wondering what sixth or seventh year student, the only ones that would qualify with the age restriction that was being instituted that year, would actually have trouble with the task. It would be challenging, but Sirius suspected they could make it much more difficult.

Crouch and Bagman bought his excuse of 'Auror stuff' that needed his immediate attention, and Sirius made it to Egypt in a few jumps, appearing at the same location as he had almost three years ago.

A whole gaggle of redheads greeted him, the twins most enthusiastically. Sirius noted that Molly was not entirely pleased at that. He also saw that Percy, the most recent Hogwarts graduate among them, was not there and filed it away in his brain for later questioning.

"Hey," Sirius shook hands and pounded the twins on their backs, "how did you two do on your O.W.L.s?"

They both cringed and Molly lit into them, lecturing for what had to be at least the twentieth time. Sirius frowned. Both twins were much more intelligent than those results depicted, and by their protests they didn't exactly care about Ministry tests. When they announced that they might not even take their N.E.W.T.s Sirius felt he had to jump in and save them from the wrath of Molly.

"That would be foolish," Sirius gave them his 'stern godfather' look that he only rarely used. "Even if you currently have no wish to work for the Ministry, you never know what your future will hold. It is better to cover all your bases. If you get good marks on your N.E.W.T.s, most departments will overlook your O.W.L.s. I could easily see both of you working in Experimental Charms, or the Department of Mysteries."

"Really?" Fred asked him, exchanging a doubtful look with his twin.

Sirius leaned down to whisper to them, "The Department of Mysteries is a Marauder's dream come true. You wouldn't believe some of the things they have stashed away in there."

Identical gleams lit up their eyes and Molly backed down, looking torn between gratitude, confusion, and doubt. Sirius just grinned and motioned to Charlie, who joined him a few steps away from the others.

"What's up?" Charlie grinned at him. "Thanks by the way. We've all heard enough lectures from Mum about their dismal scores. Only three each!" Sirius winced, even Peter hadn't done that poorly.

"Please tell me they at least got Defense," Sirius glanced back at the twins, who were avoiding their mother. "Remus said they were actually some of his best students when they applied themselves."

"It was one of two O's they got," Charlie said. "They got an O in Potions as well, and an E in Charms. They got an A in Transfiguration but McGonagall said she would take them in her class based on their previous grades, so long as they promised not to prank her ever again."

Sirius laughed at that. He bet that McGonagall wished she had ever had such a bargaining tool with the Marauders. A talk with James and Remus was called for. If McGonagall was going to be all complacent it was a perfect opportunity. Maybe Brie would deliver something special for them.

"Anyway Charlie, if you had a hippogriff hiding in the Burrow that was supposed to have been executed by the Ministry, what would you do with him?" Sirius asked as plainly as he could.

Charlie's eyes bugged, and then he started laughing, "Would this be the same hippogriff that tried to maim a Malfoy?" Sirius nodded. "I'll be at the Burrow for the rest of the summer, until the World Cup anyway, and then I'm headed back to Romania for a bit." His eyes were twinkling in mischief. "I could use a ride back to the preserve."

"Just swing by the Manor the night before you leave and he's all yours," Sirius slapped him on the shoulder. "So... you know what's going on at Hogwarts this year?"

"You're involved in the planning?" Charlie asked.

"Met with Karkaroff yesterday," Sirius was fishing for information. He wondered why Charlie Weasley knew about the Tournament.

"Well," Charlie winked, "I guess I'll see you at the first task then. I'm one of the handlers bring the dragons over."

Sirius nodded and made small talk with the rest of the Weasleys, before shaking hands and giving a few hugs, Bill included to his mother's apparent surprise, before heading back to the Manor.

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	33. Chapter 33

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**Chapter Thirty-Three**

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Harry woke up to his scar hurting nearly as much as it had when he battled Quirrell. He went over the important facts of his dream in his head, repeating them over and over to make sure he remembered before summoning parchment and a quill to write them down, working hard to focus on the words.

Sweat dripped into his eyes and it startled him. He almost never broke a sweat, and certainly not while sleeping. The dream must have had some sort of physiological effect on him aside from the migraine, and Harry did not like the implications of that one bit.

He went straight for his shower to wash off the dirty feeling of the dark magic Voldemort used. Once he was clean he pulled on a pair of his yoga pants and headed for his parents bedroom. He knocked before entering, having no wish to interrupt them. The one time that had happened was enough to scar him for life.

"Dad?" Harry said as he opened the door.

James Potter was not an early riser like the rest of his family. He blinked his eyes wearily and rubbed his face with his hands, "Wha'?"

"Voldemort," Harry said simply.

The result was instantaneous. James jumped out of bed and had his wand in hand. Lily watched him with barely restrained amusement. James scowled at his son, "Don't _do _that! Voldemort is nothing to joke about."

Harry sighed, "I wish I was joking. My scar hurts." That brought both his parents to high alert and Harry knew he had to stop them before they ran into the hall and woke the whole house. "I had a dream about him and Wormtail... and I think it was real."

"A dream?" James asked, making eye contact. Harry nodded. "He's not here?" Harry shook his head.

Both his parents breathed a little easier and exchanged a look. Lily spoke first, "Wake Sirius and Remus and bring them downstairs. You can tell us all at once."

Harry just nodded again and left to let his parents get dressed. Remus was easy to wake, as he was already most of the way up. Things were still a little awkward between them, but the events at the end of the year had completely overshadowed their earlier argument. They had a few private talks, about both the reason they argued and Harry putting himself between Moony and his friends and Snape. Harry had assured Remus that he had no misgivings, from either instance.

Sirius was entirely different from Remus, extremely difficult to wake sometimes, and rather than waste his time yelling and shaking the man Harry just hexed him. Sirius bolted out of bed, shooting a stunner at Harry out of reflex. Harry cast a shield that absorbed the curse instead of reflecting it.

"Damn it Harry!" Sirius cursed and grumbled as he untangled himself from his sheets and reversed Harry's hex.

"Adults only meeting downstairs now," Harry informed his godfather, and watched as Sirius instantly changed modes from irritated godfather to Auror.

"I was in the room with them, like a third party. I could hear and see everything, but they couldn't see me. Wormtail came across a Ministry witch in Albania, and she's dead now. Voldemort... he was holding a wand... he has some kind of body now...," Harry shuddered and saw the same from his parents and 'uncles'. "He killed a muggle that showed up."

James and Sirius exchanged glances, "That will show up on our radar somewhere. Harry, did they say who the witch was?"

Harry shut his eyes tight and tried to remember. He reconstructed the scene and tried to 'replay' the conversation, yet again thankful for his Occlumency training. There it was... Harry cringed. He knew her. Well, not really... but he had met her at the Ministry before.

"Bertha Jorkins," Harry said in a hushed voice.

Sirius swore and Lily scolded him, but he ignored her, "I knew Crouch was downplaying her absence. She may be gossipy, but she's never been as forgetful as he was making her out to be."

Harry raised his eyebrows at his godfather, and Sirius shook his head. The witch had not been one of his many conquests.

"There's nothing more you can do Harry," James ran his fingers through his hair. "We're heading in early Padfoot. I want to see if we can figure out where this house is. You'll report to Albus Lily?"

"Right after breakfast," Lily Potter nodded and her eyes unfocused, like she was trying to figure something out. "Put out some feelers James. I'm going to suggest that Albus consider reforming the Order."

"Already?" Remus asked her.

She nodded, "It's like before. There are quiet disappearances, and then the muggle deaths will rise. Before we know it we'll be seeing white masks and the Dark Mark again. We can get organized ahead of him and be ready."

Solemn faces nodded and Harry contemplated his mother's words. He knew what the Order was, all the Potter siblings did. They were strictly forbidden from revealing the knowledge to anyone, but Harry's parents swore they would never keep him in the dark. After what happened to Sirius they realized that secrets were just as dangerous when held too close as they were when they got out.

The Malfoy's owl delivered post for Harry that morning. Security had been lightened somewhat, though apparition, Portkey, and Floo restrictions were still in place. More to appease his parents than anything else Harry checked the parchment thoroughly for hexes, curses, potions, or any other dangerous potentials. It was clean, as Harry suspected.

_Harry,_

_Father noted that your family will not be in the Top Box for the Quidditch World Cup. If you would like, you are welcome to join us there and stay at the Manor the night before. I assume you will be sharing a tent with your family at the Cup._

_Send Hedwig back with your reply._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

Harry grinned. His friend used an odd mix of casual and formal wording in his owl posts to Harry. It was like he realized that Harry was a friend but he couldn't overcome years of his father's teachings. Harry passed the letter over to his mother.

"Do you think Dad would object?" Harry asked, pretty sure he knew the answer anyway.

Lily Potter sighed, "There's not a chance you can spend a night at their Manor, especially after that dream you had last night, but you have my permission to accept their invitation to sit in the Top Box if you want to. If your father has a problem with it he can talk to me."

Harry grinned, "Thanks Mum."

He darted upstairs, ignoring the complaints of his siblings, and wrote a reply to Draco. He tied it to Hedwig's leg and went back downstairs, ready for family yoga time. He loved watching Rowan and Ryan trying to participate. They were only two years old, but they were starting to get the hang of it.

"Harry!"

The call came through the Floo system and Harry recognized the voice of George Weasley. It was just slightly warmer than Fred's. Harry unfolded himself and saw George's expression on seeing all the Potters twisted up.

"What's going on? How was Egypt?" Harry asked his sunburned friend.

"Killer," George grinned. "We tried to trap Ronniekins in a Pyramid but Mum caught on."

"Has she let up on your O.W.L. scores yet?" Harry asked, sitting comfortably in front of the fire.

George nodded, "Thank your godfather for us."

Harry saw his mother perk up at that and he shot George a look. No one was supposed to know that Sirius had popped over to Egypt.

"So why the fire call?" Harry asked. The twins usually wrote to him over the summer, but they must have had an urgent question.

"Can we come through?" George asked, and peeked around Harry's shoulder, "or is it a bad time?"

"We're just about done dear," Lily Potter answered for Harry. "Feel free to come over."

Fairly soon three bodies tumbled out of the fireplace and Harry helped them dust off the soot. Ginny went over to Brie, and the two of them started sharing gossip. Fred and George each hooked an arm around Harry's shoulders, which was rather easy for them as they had at least four inches on him.

"Have we ever told you..."

"...how much we love you?"

Harry rolled his eyes and batted their arms away. He snorted, "Please tell me you actually have a reason for visiting."

They both affected looks of hurt. Fred clasped his hands over his heart, "We need a reason?"

"It isn't enough that you're our favorite Slytherin?"

"Barring Snape of course..."

Wicked grins graced both faces and Harry shook his head. No doubt his Head of House was cursing everything he could once he found out the twins qualified for his N.E.W.T. level Potions. Still a little angry with the man, Harry smiled at the thought of his expression.

The twins and Harry went up to his room and Harry collapsed on his bed, the twins following his lead.

"What were you all doing down there?" George asked him in a bit of amazement.

"Yoga," Harry responded. "It's a muggle exercise. It originated in the East, and I think Eastern wizards use it to learn focus."

The twins shook their head simultaneously and Harry had a quick thought about the two of them dating, wondering if they did _everything_ together. He instantly tried to think of something else, as his friends were sitting right there next to him, and he was getting a bit uncomfortable at the thoughts running through his head.

He knew that wizarding twins, which were rarer than one might expect given that there were two sets at Hogwarts and another in the Potter household, shared not only looks, but were reported to share a single soul and their magical core. Their wands were almost always brother wands, with not just the same core but the same wood from the same tree.

He actually suspected that the Patil twins were twins only in the muggle sense of the word, as they were far too different personality wise to be magical twins.

"Harry..." the wheedling tone instantly put him on alert.

"...what's making you blush?"

_Screw it_, Harry decided. He lived with the Marauders. He was not about to let the Weasley twins get to him, "Has either of you had a girlfriend yet?"

"That's making you blush?" George ruffled his hair.

Fred chuckled, "Is ickle-Harrykins embarrassed?"

He glared at them for turning their mother's pet name for their little brother on him, "Actually... I was wondering if you two do _everything_ together."

Both twins blushed to the roots of their hair and it was Harry's turn to laugh. They had clearly caught onto his insinuation immediately.

"You're too young to be thinking those thoughts Harry," Fred admonished him.

Harry rolled his eyes. They had _no_ idea.

"Besides," George continued, "we don't shower together... and no... we don't... erm... _date_ together."

Harry's laughter increased, "You two are redder than I've ever seen Ronniekins!"

He was actually surprised, and wondered if the twins' parents had ever discussed that aspect of magical twins with them, or if they had just avoided the whole possibility. It _was_ possible that they didn't know, what with the rarity of true magical twins. Harry only knew because his mother had thoroughly researched twins when she discovered she was carrying them.

Two pillows hit him from either side, and a war ensued. The twins protested loudly when Harry started using magic, as they weren't allowed to outside of school yet. Harry argued that they had started the fight and it was two on one. They finally settled down and Harry reversed hexes and repaired his room before collapsing again, but this time in a chair outside of immediate pillow range.

"Did you get tickets to the Cup?" Fred asked him.

Harry nodded, "Dad and Siri insisted on getting seats in the stands. They said that any Quidditch is much more fun in the crowd. I think there's a little more to it, but that's where everyone has seats. You can't really heckle the players from the Top Box."

Fred and George grinned at each other, "Bagman got Dad tickets to the Top Box, and he let us each invite someone. Hermione will be there with Ronnie."

George made kissing noises and Harry started laughing. He knew that Ron had a crush on Hermione, hell all of Hogwarts did except maybe the Weasel himself, but couldn't see her reciprocating.

Fred smacked his twin, "Save it for teasing Ron. Ginny is asking Brie, and we thought we'd check with you before we ask Lee and the girls."

"Singling any of them out is just begging for trouble," George shivered.

Harry nodded, having ample experience with upset girls thanks to his little sister. The Slytherin girls didn't get bothered the same way that Brie did, and he suspected that the other Gryffindor girls were of similar temperament.

"Sorry guys," Harry prepared himself for what was coming, "Draco already wrote with the same invitation. He beat you by about two hours."

"Angelina?" Fred questioned George.

George smirked, "If you want."

Harry shook his head as Fred blushed and it began again. He should have known not to bother fixing his room just yet. By the time the twins left his sides ached from a combination of laughing so hard and the two of them teaming up to tickle Harry until his eyes watered.

Sirius got busier as the Cup got close, the motorbike lessons stopped, and Harry's dad looked increasingly worried. He hadn't liked that Harry would be in the Top Box with the Malfoys, but was better when he heard the Weasleys would be there as well, and ordered Brie to keep an eye out for her brother. It would just be Sirius, James, Alex, and Ian in the stands. Remus, who wasn't a huge fan of quidditch or crowds, was staying at the Manor to watch over the twins.

Harry's mother and Mrs. Weasley had plans to spend the day of the World Cup in Diagon Alley, which would be nice and quiet with almost the whole of wizarding Britain at the Stadium. They would do all the shopping for their Hogwarts bound students, and Lily Potter was planning on springing a surprise dinner on Mrs. Weasley along with a trip to her masseuse in muggle London.

Remus started teaching Harry and Neville to apparate in the weeks leading up to the school year, and Harry nearly had it down when it was time to go to the cup, but he wasn't good enough yet to avoid using a Portkey at the crack of dawn. It was the first Portkey to arrive, as James had to check over security. Sirius had been on site for two nights already.

A wizard Harry didn't recognize greeted them and took the soda can that had been their Portkey and tossed it in a box marked 'used', "Mornin' sir."

"Sheridan," James Potter nodded, in Head Auror mode. He herded his children towards the campgrounds, each of them with a backpack on, though the backpacks had featherweight charms on them. Sirius had already set up their tent.

The muggle that greeted them remarked that there were quite a few reservations that weekend and Harry watched as his dad managed to allay any suspicion with a few well-chosen words, and without a memory charm.

"That poor man will have to be charmed enough times before this is all over," James muttered as they walked towards their campsite. "Half our kind has no grasp of how to pass for muggle. I'm sure at least four hundred groups will try to pay with Galleons."

"I've got everyone in pairs wandering around," Sirius appeared next to them just before they found the tent. "Obliviators are on call, and Fudge is trying to interfere as always."

James heaved a sigh and massaged his temples, "Leave Fudge to me. Amelia won't be here, so he's my responsibility. Who is Shacklebolt working with?"

Sirius grinned, "He's with Tonks and Dawlish."

"Not anymore," James ordered. "Dawlish can handle Tonks on his own. I want Kingsley to stick to Fudge like glue. Keep him from embarrassing us. Kingsley is nice and intimidating and he speaks Bulgarian, right?"

Sirius nodded, "I think Kingsley speaks at least a dozen languages."

"Good," James shook his head, "Fudge only knows a few words and none of them work with each other. Kingsley can tower over him and keep Fudge in check as well as providing an obvious presence. His language skills will make the Bulgarians happy."

As he walked away Harry saw Sirius pull a small mirror out of his pocket and talk into it. He was pulled into the tent by Brie, though, so he didn't get to see anything more.

Their tent was a pretty straightforward wizarding tent, with wizarding space charmed inside. On the outside it was a dome in various shades of blue, held up by curved poles and lines that were tethered to stakes in the ground. On the inside it was a medium sized house, with six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living area. Normally the Potter children had to share rooms when the whole family went on a vacation that used the tent, but for this trip there was a perfect number of rooms for everyone to have their own.

"I'm hungry!" Alex complained after they had all unpacked and gathered in the living area. They had played two rounds of Exploding Snape, a variation on Snap invented by the Weasley twins with a little help from Creevey's camera, and Brie was shuffling the cards in preparation for another game.

"You're always hungry," Ian prodded his older brother, though only by a year.

Harry just smiled at the two of them. Spending almost all year at Hogwarts meant that he had only a few months each year to be with his brothers. He discovered that children grew up so quickly that it was easy to miss their development into the adult they would one day become. He vowed, though, that he would enjoy every moment he could with his brothers and sisters.

"Is that so?" Harry remarked and swung Alex over his shoulder.

"Harry! Put me down!" Alex balled up his hands into fists and beat at Harry's back while Brie and Ian laughed at them. Harry doubted he would get much taller than he was then, and Alex was already nine years old. Soon enough he'd be too tall and too heavy for Harry to manhandle like that.

Harry carried his brother out of the tent with Ian and Brie following, "I thought you were hungry."

Brie stopped briefly to leave a message for their father, should he come back and find them away from the tent. With Aurors all over the place, and all of them familiar with the Potter brood, they were fairly safe.

"I am! Put me down!" Alex demanded once more with a sound thump on Harry's back.

"Okay then," Harry stopped moving, "then I won't take you to find some food."

Ian almost fell down laughing, "We've missed you Harry."

Harry grinned. He was much more open around his family than he was in public, or even in Slytherin House. Around them he could let go a little and didn't have to worry about his image as the Boy Who Lived, or the Slytherin Potter.

"You're a lot more fun now you know?" Brie jogged up to Harry's side as he continued to carry a wiggling Alex towards the food stands by the Stadium.

"When was I not fun?" Harry asked her seriously.

Brie shrugged, "You used to almost never fool around like this. You were too serious before you went to Hogwarts."

Harry frowned. He hadn't thought he had changed that much, but before Hogwarts he had still been learning to get himself under control. Even just the summer before this one, he had been learning Occlumency and didn't have as much time for his siblings. He did remember a time when he wouldn't even let the mildest emotions show, as emotions led to loss of control, which led to fires and floods and indoor tornadoes.

His control was remarkably better now, in part because he practiced. When there was no one around, he could find a nice quiet spot and just lose himself in the elements.

"I want butterbeer!" Alex proclaim, still slung over Harry's shoulder.

Harry set his brother down a bit roughly and pulled out his money pouch. He approached the stand and looked over their offering. It was still early, and his parents would be furious if he bought candy for his siblings before lunch time.

"I'll take a dozen cauldron cakes, and four pumpkin juices," Harry passed a few Galleons across the counter and accepted the food in return, handing it out to his brothers and sister.

Alex frowned, "This is just juice."

"It's not yet nine in the morning Alex," Harry admonished. "Not even Padfoot drinks butterbeer this early. You can have some later tonight."

Ian walked close to Harry as they slowly headed back towards their tent, taking a long route to see what was going on around them. They easily found the section for the fans from Ireland. It was a sea of emerald green, with shamrocks everywhere, bright and cheerful. Harry saw Seamus Finnigan and made a point to avoid him.

The Bulgarian section of the campground was much different. There were posters of Victor Krum on the side of every tent, dark and brooding. He scowled at everyone that passed by, even the girls who were approaching swoon at the sight of him.

"Please tell me you don't have a crush on him," Harry pleaded with Brie. "Lockhart was bad enough."

Brie flushed bright red. After discovering that Lockhart was a complete fraud her bedroom had been completely redecorated and any evidence of her former fascination with the older wizard destroyed.

"He's not cute at all," Brie said petulantly. "He's a fabulous seeker but he looks mean."

Alex and Ian looked just as relieved as Harry was.

"Harry!"

Harry turned and saw a mass of red hair headed in his direction. He counted a total of six Weasleys, which meant there was only one missing. To his great relief it was the Weasel that wasn't with the rest of his siblings.

Fred, George, and Harry took care of introducing all their siblings, and Harry did not miss Brie's nearly worshipful gaze directed at Bill Weasley, who Harry had to admit did look pretty cool with the earring, long ponytail, and leather jacket, but no more than Sirius did when he dressed up to go out in muggle London. The last time the Potters saw Bill he had shorter hair and was dressed in Auror trainee robes.

Harry felt a groan coming on. It looked like it was time for Brie to redecorate her room again.

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	34. Chapter 34

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**Chapter Thirty-Four**

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"You have got to help us Harry," Fred dropped both his arms on Harry's shoulders and hung there.

George mooched a cauldron cake off of Ian and devoured it, "Yeah, Dad's hopeless."

Charlie smacked the back of George's head lightly, "Don't talk about Dad that way."

"But he is!" Ginny added in, neatly avoiding her brother's swipe. "He's so fascinated with muggles he can't get the tent set up. Hermione's been trying to get the hammer away from him for hours, and don't even get me started on matches."

The Potters all laughed and Harry ducked down, making Fred stumble and fall without Harry to lean on anymore. The older Weasleys snickered.

"We'll give you a hand," Harry smirked. He turned to his siblings. "Ian and Alex run distraction duty. Brie, you and I will help 'Mione get the tent up." He looked at the Weasleys, "I take it the rest of you can manage to light a fire?"

More than one face turned bright red and Harry chuckled to himself. Weasleys were so easy and so fun to get a rise out of. They arrived at the Weasley campsite, and found that the twins and Ginny had been fairly accurate. Hermione had all the poles and stakes laid out neatly, but Mr. Weasley was getting too excited. Every time he swung the hammer, he started and tried to examine how it worked.

"Dad!" Fred exclaimed, "Look who we found!"

The Potters went into a whirlwind of activity. Ian and Alex started questioning Mr. Weasley about his work. The whole family had heard about some of his raids and the tag-team questions were fired off more quickly than they could be answered. Then the two of them started talking about the last trip into muggle London and the exhibit that focused on the muggle James Bond movies that they all saw at the Science Museum, which used to be part of the Victoria & Albert.

Fred and George couldn't stop themselves from laughing, Percy looked embarrassed, and the Bill and Charlie just shook their heads in amusement. Ginny and Brie started to help Hermione with the poles, as it was a more than one person job.

"Okay," Harry rubbed his hands together, "he's distracted."

He slipped the hammer out of Mr. Weasley's grasp and went to work on the ropes and stakes. It took less than half an hour to get them all driven into the ground and tied taught. Bill and Charlie were sitting by a roaring fire, with Ginny and Brie asking them about their work.

"Thank you so much Harry," Hermione hugged him. "I thought we would never get that done."

Harry grinned at her, "No problem. We set ours up hours ago. Dad's in charge of security so we had to get here early."

"Think you're special Potter?" Weasel was sulking, probably because his family needed Harry's help yet again.

"No Weasel," Harry scowled, "I don't, but if _you _want a fancy scar so much I'll keep that in mind next time you end up on the other side of my wand."

The youngest Weasley male was clearly getting more agitated, and several of his brothers jumped in. Ron had grown so he was taller than the twins and Charlie, but Bill was able to lift him up easily, "Watch your manners Ron. You'll embarrass all of us if you start a brawl. Sorry Harry."

Harry just waved it off, "Don't even think about it. He might have tried to start something, but there's no way I'd fight him here. Half the Ministry's Aurors are wandering around."

They sat at the Weasleys' fire for a while, Mr. Weasley asking question after question about their encounters with muggles. Ludo Bagman came by, looking for Bartemius Crouch. Harry was beyond glad that Crouch wasn't with him. Every Potter had a grudge against Crouch for his treatment of Sirius when everyone thought that James and Lily Potter were dead.

"What is he talking about?" Harry leaned over to George and asked in a whisper.

George shrugged, "We were hoping you could tell us. Percy's been hinting around about something happening at Hogwarts this year but refuses to say what... pompous git."

Harry snorted. He fully agreed with the twins' sentiment about their older brother. Percy Weasley was the most annoying Head Boy Harry had seen at Hogwarts. His dad told him that Percy had applied to every department at the Ministry with the glaring exception of the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, the department his father headed. Law Enforcement had rejected him because, as Sirius put, there were already far too many boot lickers in the department.

"If I find out I'll let you know," Harry already had an idea of who to ask.

It wasn't long before the entire crowd was moving towards the stadium to take their seats. Harry mildly regretted accepting the invitation to the Top Box as he climbed a seemingly endless number of stairs to get there. His father had insisted that he meet the Malfoys at the Box, and Harry wondered exactly what he thought was going to happen between the campground and the Box, or even the base of the stairs and the top. Brie was right behind him, as their father couldn't put that ridiculous restriction on one but not both of them.

"Harry," Narcissa Malfoy made a show of greeting Harry with a kiss on his cheek, which he submitted to with nothing more than a raised eyebrow to Draco, "it is so nice to see you again. Tell us how your family is."

"It is a pleasure to see you as well Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy," Harry nodded to both of Draco's parents. "My family is well. Neither of you have met my sister Brianna, though Draco knows her from school. She is entering her second year."

"Gryffindor?" Mr. Malfoy questioned loftily.

Brianna, alerted by the use of her full name to use her best manners, gave a neat curtsy and a brilliant smile, "Yes sir. It is an honor to meet you Ma'am. I have followed your work with the St. Mungo's Ward for the Indigent. Helping those less fortunate than ourselves is a responsibility of the affluent and your contributions are admirable."

"Thank you dear," Mrs. Malfoy's surprise only showed in the brief flicker in her eyes. The two of them proceeded to discuss some of the latest charitable efforts in the wizarding world.

The Weasleys entered the Box then, and Draco and Weasel scowled at each other. Ginny did her best to completely ignore the Malfoys, though Harry knew she had to have some residual anger or fear from her first year at Hogwarts. He hadn't been arrested, or even charged, as there was no solid proof, but it was well known that Mr. Malfoy had been behind the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco.

"Excuse me," Brie curtsied again, and Harry thought she was going a bit overboard, "I should join the Weasleys, as they are my hosts for the day."

"Perhaps we shall speak again, dear," Mrs. Malfoy smiled genuinely, clearly approving of Brie.

"Yes Ma'am, Mr. Malfoy, Draco," Brie spun and bounded to the Weasleys, hugging Ginny and Hermione and taking out her omnioculars to find the rest of the Potters in the crowd.

The Mafloys all turned their attention to Harry and he shrugged, "We all have impeccable manners when we want them, and are fully capable of acting like little savages at other times. You should see the Manor when a prank war starts up. Not one chair or patch of floor is safe."

Draco snorted once in laughter and shook his head. He was getting used to Harry's dichotomy, the mixture of Slytherin and Gryffindor. Any further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Minister, Kingsley Shackelbolt, who Harry identified as one of Sirius's former flings, one of the only ones to actually come to Potter Manor as such, and the Bulgarian Minister, along with their respective entourages.

"Ah Lucius," Minister Fudge had only greeted the Weasleys perfunctorily and then crossed to the Malfoys, where the money was. He was so transparent it was a wonder he didn't just disappear.

"Cornelius," Mr. Malfoy dipped his head in greeting. "You know my family, and I am sure you know Mr. Potter, who is with us as a guest of my son."

The Minster's eyes did nothing to hide his shock, and there was a pause as he attempted to figure out the situation. Then he began shaking hands, "Of course Mr. Potter, such a pleasure to see you again. Your father was just telling us about your accomplishments this year. Minister, this is Harry Potter." Fudge made some large gestures, to which the Bulgarian Minister merely gave a confused expression.

Kingsley translated as quietly as possible, winked at Harry, and stepped back into a shadow. He blended into them with an almost eerie competence, destroyed when he smiled and flashed a wide row of bright white teeth.

"Potter!" the Bulgarian Minister widened his eyes in realization and stared at Harry's scar for a moment before shaking his hand vigorously.

Ludo Bagman came into the Box, panting as if he had tried to run up the stairs, followed more sedately by Bartemious Crouch. Bagman greeted everyone there, and Crouch merely frowned and nodded his head, despite Percy Weasley's obvious attempts at ingratiating himself.

It was all Harry and Draco could do to avoid snickering when Crouch referred to him as 'Weatherby'. Mr. Malfoy's smirk widened just a touch as well. Crouch left rather quickly, saying he had some business to take care of, but left his elf to hold his seat.

Harry was glad his father had warned him of what to expect, and he didn't miss the charms that Mr. Malfoy cast on himself and Draco before the mascots came onto the field. Harry noted that Mr. Malfoy did not Charm Harry, perhaps yet another test. Chances were the tests would never end with this family. His Occlumency shields were at full though, so he was able to take complete pleasure from the affect the Veelas had on the Weasley males, and nearly every other male in the Box.

While the mascots were being introduced Harry discreetly slipped into the shadows, "Hey Kingsley, long time no see."

"How are you doing Harry?" Kingsley gave Harry a one-armed rough hug, as he always used to at the Manor.

"I'm doing well," Harry somewhat lied. His nightmares were still pretty bad, and that new one featuring Voldemort was not resting well.

Kingsley gave him a knowing look, "So who's going to win Kiddo?"

"Ireland," Harry answered firmly. "Krum's a better seeker, but Bulgaria has been entirely dependant on him. Ireland has a stronger team overall."

Kingsley leaned down, "Here's a little something to laugh about. The Bulgarian Minister speaks fluent English. He's just enjoying watching Fudge make a fool out of himself."

Harry stifled a chuckle, "You won't get in trouble?"

"How was I to know?" Kingsley looked astonished. "It's not like he told me."

"I won't distract you any longer," Harry shook his head. He gave Kingsley a light punch on the arm and rejoined the Malfoys, whispering the news to Draco, who was not able to stop the laughter and immediately shared with his father.

Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry, who gestured back to Kingsley, who was grinning in the shadows. Lucius shook his head and hid his own smile. It seemed that the entire wizarding world knew Fudge was incompetent.

The game was spectacular and Harry and Draco were constantly readjusting their omnioculars and debating one move or another. Harry was actually surprised when the game ended as early as it did and he heard Ron Weasley cry out in indignation that Krum was stupid for catching the snitch when he did.

"He knew Bulgaria was losing Weasel-y," Harry countered across the Box. "They didn't have a chance. The Irish Chasers were too coherent a unit for the Bulgarian team so he ended the game on his own terms. They lost by much less than they would have otherwise. It was an honorable move on his part."

"I quite agree Mr. Potter," the Bulgarian Minister chose that moment to speak up and leave Cornelius Fudge looking like a landed fish gasping for air. "Thank you for that clear assessment."

"Thank you for joining us today Minister," Harry bowed in return, completely ignoring Ron Weasley's scowl and that Fred and George were pestering Ludo Bagman, apparently having won some bet with him. Bagman was notorious for gambling on anything and everything. He had lost ten Galleons on Harry's House placement according to Sirius.

The teams entered the Box then, and Weasel's scowl changed to awe. Apparently Victor Krum was his hero. Said Seeker had his hand over his nose, which was dripping blood, and the Irish Seeker was being supported by two of his teammates.

"May I?" Kingsley stepped forward, speaking Bulgarian, his wand out plainly as he gestured towards Krum's nose. The Bulgarian Minister nodded and Kingsley quickly fixed the broken nose.

"Thank you," Krum's English was deeply accented but understandable.

Once the Cup was awarded introductions were made around the Box, and every Quidditch player stared at Harry's scar. One of the Irish players tugged on Kingsley's robe and whispered something to him, which he translated and the Bulagrian team all nodded. Kingsley produced a self-inking quill and the Bulgarian Keeper summoned the quaffle. Each player signed the ball.

"To Harry Potter," the Irish Keeper read with a musical lilt, taking over the Sonorous Charm from Bagman. He was probably a very good singer as well. "We hear you're quite the Seeker. Keep flying and maybe we'll meet you in the air one day. Signed by each member of the Irish and Bulgarian National Quidditch Teams. Quidditch World Cup Game Quaffle, 1994."

Harry's eyes widened as they passed him the quaffle, the name of each player scribed on it and protected with anti-smudge and anti-wear charms, "Thank you."

Draco gave up any pretense of aristocratic haughtiness, the Weasleys never had any to begin with, and they all crowded around him to see the now priceless Quidditch memorabilia.

The Box emptied slowly, and Harry waited behind despite Kingsley's suggestive look. No doubt Harry's dad had assigned him to look after Harry in the Box along with his task of keeping the Minister from too much embarrassment. Harry just shook his head and rolled his eyes. His father was overreacting. Harry was not only perfectly capable of protecting himself, but the Malfoys weren't stupid enough to try anything.

"So what's happening at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Draco as they descended the stairs.

"Your father hasn't told you?" Draco looked amused and Harry saw Mr. Malfoy smirking ahead of them.

Harry sighed, "No he hasn't. He's been busy putting together the security for this, tracking down Pettigrew, and doing at least a dozen other things that I don't know about. We don't ask about work. Dad has earned the right to not think about Auror business for at least a few hours everyday."

Draco shrugged and his father gave one nod. Draco smirked, "Fine, but you can't let your father know we told you." Harry nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Hogwarts is hosting the TriWizard Tournament this year."

Harry blinked, history lessons with Remus coming back to him, "Didn't one of the contestants die in the last one? That's why they stopped."

Lucius Malfoy turned and raised an eyebrow, "You know your History."

"Remus is a much more engaging teacher than Binns," Harry explained with his own smirk.

"They are taking precautions this year," Mr. Malfoy explained as if he was in the thick of things. Harry suspected he just had several Ministry employees wrapped around his little finger, or rather his wallet, the Minister for one. "Neither of you are old enough to enter by the new restrictions."

Harry nodded. It made perfect sense, "Fine with me. Someone else can be the center of every bit of gossip circulating the school for once."

"That is so not Slytherin," Draco rolled his eyes.

"I disagree," Harry smirked. "I have plenty of ambition, just no desire for recognition. I get enough attention as it is. I'll use it to my advantage when I need to, but I want no more than I have."

"Slytherins always want more," Draco differed, his father looking on in interest. They had stopped at the base of the stairs.

"No," Harry said thoughtfully, "a Slytherin knows when it is not to his advantage to be known, or to obtain more than what they have. After all, the majority of Death Eaters were Slytherin, and they did not go about parading their allegiance."

Draco looked startled, and Mr. Malfoy nodded approvingly. Harry noticed that Mrs. Malfoy had gone on ahead of them and was no longer in sight, "Very well spoken Harry. Subterfuge and discretion are useful tools, but even more useful is knowledge of when and how to use them."

"Harry!" Brie came running up to them. "Dad is on the warpath. If you don't show in one piece soon he'll send out a search party."

Harry rolled his eyes, "My point is made. If I got any more attention I'd have a squadron of Aurors following me everywhere I went. I'll be more than happy to watch from the shadows this year."

Mr. Malfoy nodded and smiled at Brie, who just nodded back to him, perfect manners dismissed as they were no longer surrounded by other people. Draco gave him a short wave, "See you on the train."

"See you Draco," Harry waved and ran off after his sister, quaffle tucked under his arm.

The nightmares continued to plague him, and Harry woke abruptly, heart thumping in his chest. There had been a huge man looming over him, hand raised, and Harry had just curled in on himself and prepared himself for the blow. He knew it was his uncle he was seeing, and that it was twelve years in the past, but that apparently didn't stop his subconscious from raising the demons in his sleep.

Screams sounded, and Harry wondered if perhaps he was still asleep, until Sirius banged into his room, "Good. You're awake. Get your brothers and sister up and take them into the woods. Some idiots have decided to torture some muggles. You'll be safe there."

Harry nodded and quickly found some clothing to slip on. He went room to room and roused his siblings, gathering them together quickly, "Wands ready, even you two," Harry said to his brothers, "but be discreet about it."

Ian and Alex nodded and let the tips of their wands fall out of their long sleeves, ready for use but still hidden. They moved as one, from shadow to shadow, stealthily. Their daily yoga did more than tone their muscles. Combined with the dancing that their mother insisted they learn the Potter children were all graceful and light on their feet. Harry led, and Brie took the rear.

The Irish were still celebrating. There was raucous singing, and fireworks illuminated the campground, and probably quite a lot of inebriation. In the flashes, Harry saw the campground keeper, his wife and children, suspended in the air, turning and twisting. The man's wife was flipped upside-down and her knickers were shown to everyone on the ground. She was screaming and trying to hold the skirt of her nightdress in place. There were perhaps six or so wizards below them in black with white masks, the classic garb of Death Eaters that Harry had mentioned earlier that day.

"Bollocks," Harry swore to himself. He contented himself that his mention of Death Eaters could not be fully responsible for this, even if Mr. Malfoy was one of those robed figures, a sound assumption.

They bumped into Draco the instant they entered the woods. He was alone, wand out, watching the spectacle with what Harry was sure was discomfort in his eyes. Others might see it as desire to join in, but he was starting to understand Draco's idiosyncrasies. The Malfoy heir hated blood, got queasy at the sight of it, and would not be at all suited to the life of a Death Eater. The Weasleys, Ron and Ginny anyway, and Hermione came up behind them.

"Not out there torturing muggles with Daddy?" Ron snapped.

Draco's eyes flashed and his grip on his wand tightened, "Watch it Weasel, or a Mu... muggle-lover like you might be next."

Harry ignored the slip as Draco sent an almost imperceptible nod of apology to Hermione. His younger siblings followed his lead.

"Why do you have your wands out?" Ginny asked them.

"Defense of oneself is an acceptable breach of the Restriction Against Underage Wizardry," Ian supplied quietly, and Harry reminded himself to let Remus know about this. Ian was quick and bright, potentially Ravenclaw material.

Hermione nodded and she and Ginny took out their wands. Ron however, searched his pockets to no avail, "My wand! It's gone."

Harry groaned, and he wasn't the only one, "What is it with you and wands?" Ron flushed but Harry motioned, "We're still too close. Come on."

They went in deeper and Draco joined them, staying close to Harry. He gave his friend careful looks, hoping that Draco was going to be okay. By his reactions his father was certainly wearing a black robe and white mask. Lucius Malfoy might no longer support the Dark Lord, but that wouldn't change his attitude towards muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards.

They made it to a clearing and stopped. Harry quickly assessed his group, and saw a few of them shivering. He warmed up the air around them just enough to make them comfortable and ignored Brie's amused glances. They could wait things out where they were. He could still see the flashes of spells through the trees. When they stopped he could lead the others back to the campground.

His blood froze when he heard a deep voice cry out behind them.

_MORSMORDE!_

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Please Review!

OO


	35. Chapter 35

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Fourth Year**

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

There was rustling in the undergrowth and Harry felt the flare of magic before it left the wands.

"Duck!"

Harry hit the ground, pulling Draco and Brie, the two closest, down with him. There was the sizzle of spells hissing over their heads, bright red all of them.

"It's a bunch of kids!"

A large group of adults came into the clearing and Harry stood, brushing off his robes. He held his hand out for Brie, and saw Draco doing the same for Ian.

"Thanks Padfoot," Harry said dryly, recognizing his godfather in the group along with Mr. Weasley, Crouch, and several others. "I love dodging stunners in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar forest."

"Look up Harry," Sirius said, his voice equally lacking amusement.

Harry did, and he could have sworn he actually felt the blood draining out of his face. He had never seen the Dark Mark anywhere other than old newspapers and drawings. His 'tutors' had taught him to recognize it early on. In general, he was supposed to run like hell for safety whenever he encountered it, at least he was supposed to when he was little.

"That's what...," Harry put two and two together rather easily. "A low voice yelled out an incantation earlier," He closed his eyes and tried to remember the word, trying out different sounds until he got the right one, "Mar... Mer... Mir..." His eyes snapped open, "Morsmorde! That was it!"

The adults all jumped as if hit with a shock hex from behind. One of them stepped forward and said accusingly, "How do you know how to conjure the Dark Mark?"

Sirius put his hand on the man's shoulder, "He's Harry Potter Amos. Watch it. He just told us how he knows. He heard it a minute ago. Do the rest of you agree?" They all nodded silently and Sirius smiled at them, "That much is settled. Our stunners went through those bushes. If we hit anyone they'll still be there."

Sirius held his wand out, casting light in front of him, as he looked in the bushes, coming back with a House Elf gripping a wand.

"Winky!" Hermione gasped. Harry had seen her trying to talk to the House Elf in the Top Box, but it had politely refused.

"Isn't that your elf Barty?" one of the many wizards there asked.

"My wand!" Ron cried out and jumped forward, but Sirius held him back.

"Not quite yet Weasley," Sirius held his own wand to the tip of Ron's, _Priori Incantatum._ A ghostly green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth drifted from Ron's wand, the echo of the Dark Mark. Sirius shook his head and handed it back to Ron. "Hold onto that carefully. When did you lose it?"

"Better ask why he cast the Mark," someone grumbled.

Arthur Weasley scowled, "Are you insinuating I teach my children such magic?"

The grumbler flushed bright red and shook his head. The Weasley family was well known for being firmly on the side of light.

"I...," Ron was red and uncomfortable looking. Harry couldn't believe he had been thick enough to lose his wand... then again... it _was_ Weasel. "I had it in the Top Box...," he shrugged.

"Well, only one thing left," Sirius pointed his wand at Winky, _Enervate!_

The elf gasped and sat up straight to find herself surrounded by pointed wands and her Master glaring down at her, "Master... Master... Winky is..."

"Where did you find the wand Winky?" Sirius asked her gently.

"I is picking it up in the forest," Winky was shuddering.

"I told you to stay in the tent!" Crouch boomed.

"Bad wizards is scaring Winky!" Winky had tears falling down her cheeks and she was wringing her ears, reminiscent of Dobby.

"This means clothes Winky!" Crouch growled and the elf wailed and prostrated herself at his feet, but he wouldn't relent.

The group slowly dispersed, and Sirius had a pensive look on his face, "He could have gotten away while we were talking to you bunch."

"But you don't think so," Harry said quietly.

Sirius looked down, as if surprised someone was there, and shook his head, "It's been over twelve years since anyone has seen that Mark Harry. I don't like this."

Harry recalled his dream and shivered, though he certainly was not cold. The only time he could ever remember being cold was around the dementors. He silently fell in behind his godfather as they all trekked back towards the campground. Sirius insisted on delivering Draco to his tent, perhaps to see if Lucius Malfoy was there.

He was destined for disappointment though, as Mr. Malfoy stood right outside the tent and strode towards them the instant they came into view, "Draco! Your mother has been worried sick about you. I trust he did not get into any trouble?"

"No Lucius," Sirius shook his head. "You wouldn't know who was playing with muggles would you?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "Not at all. Narcissa and I were taking Draco into the woods for safety, and he was swept away by a crowd. We searched for a bit then she came back here hoping he would return while I left to give the Ministry a hand. The Aurors were certainly not prepared for a riot on that scale."

"Good night," Harry said quietly to Draco, who was pale and looking at the ground.

Draco looked up and nodded stiffly, "Good night Harry."

Harry and Sirius walked away, Sirius grinding his teeth, "That sanctimonious son of a... If he wasn't involved then I'm the Queen Mother."

"There won't be any proof and you know it Padfoot," Harry hissed quietly. "They used levitation charms clearly, and nearly every wizard uses them every day. Wands wouldn't be useful as evidence because of it, even if they were stupid enough to use their own wands."

Sirius shook his head and ruffled his godson's hair, "I hate it when you're the grown-up."

Harry snorted, "Well one of us has to be. We should just get out of here. You or Dad can make a Portkey for the four of us, then you won't have to worry about us while you investigate."

James Potter was on the same wavelength as Harry, and already had a Portkey ready when they got back to the tent. Lily Potter was waiting anxiously in the Manor, with Remus trying to calm her, when they landed in a tangle of limbs. All the grace in the world wasn't enough to make travel by Portkey smooth for a group of children, especially when those children had the surname Potter.

The newspapers reported little else besides the events at the World Cup. Stories and speculation continued up until it was time to head back to Hogwarts. Harry was surprised to see that his mother set out a few of his dress robes to pack, until he remembered what Draco had told him. There was bound to be some sort of festivities in conjunction with the Tournament.

Harry looked them over and chose two sets, then went to Brie's room where she was packing. He glanced in her trunk, and at her bed, "No dress robes?"

She shook her head, "They're not on my list. You need them?"

Harry nodded, "Bring some anyway. You never know."

She gave him a shrewd look, and Harry whistled and rocked on his feet.

"You know something!" Brie hit him with her new Potions book.

"Ow!" Harry tried to grab it away from her. "Quit it you little monster."

"Not until you tell me!" Brie pouted and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Harry smiled and sealed the room, "Hogwarts is hosting the TriWizard Tournament. Draco told me."

Her eyes lit up, "Brilliant! You could win, easy!" She snapped her fingers.

Harry shook his head, "Merlin no! For one, I think they're putting an age restriction on it. I'm too young to enter. Besides, the less my name is in the _Prophet_ the better."

Brie shook her head, "How Mum and Dad ended up with a shy son I'll never know." She grinned at him, "I'll pack my dancing robes."

"Good," Harry mussed up her hair and darted out of the room before she could retaliate, locking his own door behind him. He threw in the music that Sirius and Tonks got him for his birthday, complete with Charms by his mother so he could play it at Hogwarts, and his packing was done.

The ride on the Hogwarts Express was much better than it had been the previous year. Harry sat with Neville at first, and they were soon joined by Hermione, and then Maya and Blaise, who wanted a full report on the World Cup. Their families had both been out of the country and Neville's parents hadn't let him go.

"Where's Tracey?" Harry asked them.

Blaise hesitated, with a look to the Gryffindors, but Hermione glared at him in response and he just shrugged, "She's near the front, hanging on every word Ted says."

Maya snickered, "She's smitten."

There was still a division in the Slytherins of their year, fluctuating depending on whether Harry and Draco were getting along or cursing each other. With all the fuss over Pettigrew the year before, which had only partially died down, Harry hadn't really paid much attention to his Slytherin friends. He hadn't known that Tracey had a crush on Ted, but it did better explain why she came to him on the last Hogsmeade day of the year.

"Don't worry about it," Blaise shoved Harry lightly, as if reading his mind. "You had plenty to think about aside from who wants to get into whose pants."

Hermione wrinkled up her nose and Neville turned a little red. Blaise just smirked, as if getting to the Gryffindors made his day complete. They moved around a lot on that trip, and Harry found his sister with Ginny, some flaky looking girl with long dirty blond hair, and some other girls. Ginny didn't know where the twins were, but Harry had promised he would tell them what he found out.

He followed the sounds of explosions until he found Fred and George demonstrating a new invention of theirs. They welcomed him a little too exuberantly for Harry's taste and offered him a pastry.

"Are you kidding?" Harry looked at them in disbelief. "I live with three Marauders. I don't accept any food if I don't know where it's been."

Laughter broke out, and the twins' friends chided them for trying to get Harry. He just sat back and waited for the fuss to die down.

"So what brings you into the lion den, oh slithering one?" George asked him.

Harry rolled his eyes, "I told you I knew who to ask."

Fred and George instantly bolted upright, much to the surprise of the other Gryffindors. Harry saw it was the remaining members of the Quidditch Team, their captain having graduated. He had gotten a position as reserve Keeper on the Kenmore Kestrels, Harry read in _Quidditch Weekly_. The announcer was also there, Lee Jordan, a close friend of the twins.

"Tell us..."

"...now!"

"Well...," Harry drew it out, loving the looks on their faces.

Weasleys were more expressive than anyone he had ever met. Teasing them was even more fun than teasing Sirius. That might be because they didn't booby trap his bed though. Harry had taken to thoroughly checking his bed for curses and hexes every night since he was six. Eventually his mother declared all beds off-limits for pranking purposes.

"Harry!" Fred whined.

Harry sat down, "Fine. You saw we all need dress robes?"

Everyone in the compartment nodded and the Weasleys winced, "Books and school robes are bad enough. Mum had to empty the vault."

Harry felt a twinge of sympathy. He would offer to get robes for his friends, but their pride would never allow it.

"Well," Harry grinned at them, "I suppose there will be a Ball or something, what with the TriWizard Tournament being held at Hogwarts and all."

"No!" Lee Jordan gasped, all of them looking excited.

"Don't get your hopes up, there's an age limit this time," Harry warned them all.

"You'll be seventeen!" one of the chasers told another one of them. Harry wasn't sure which one of them was which, as he never had to compete directly against them. Their Seeker had graduated too, come to think of it. Harry would have to urge Brie to try out. It was about time Harry got some competition.

He left the compartment filled with excited plotting, and saw one of the girls spontaneously break out in yellow feathers. He shook his head and found his fellow Slytherins, settling down for the rest of the ride.

Moody's entrance was timed so well Harry was sure he had been watching through the doors for the perfect time. His father had mentioned something about the Defense teacher this year being familiar, but Harry hadn't thought much of it. For all he knew it could have been an Auror, as he knew every one of them.

Needless to say, classes were going to be interesting that year.

Dumbledore announced the TriWizard Tournament, and Harry faked his surprise, as did every other Slytherin around him. Most of them had already known, from their parents or their friends. Looking across the hall, Harry saw that Brie and the twins disguised their preexisting knowledge of the event too.

Harry made eye contact with Moody, who nodded at him, before taking a drink from his customary hip flask. He shook his head and hoped that it had something different in it than the last time Harry had gotten a whiff.

For someone who claimed that he practiced 'Constant Vigilance' he drank a bit too much alcohol. Harry had heard it more than once, probably because his parents were trying to make sure he didn't have a normal teenage experience, that alcohol mixed with magic was a bad combination. Drunk wizards made stupid mistakes.

For the first time Harry was included in the Slytherin Upper-Year meeting that took place on the first night of school every year. They discussed their summers, expectations for the year, and gave what information they had on the first year students. Sixth year mentors were assigned to all the first years and the Quidditch team was reminded that they needed a new captain now that Marcus Flint had graduated.

The five remaining players stayed up after the meeting working that out for the next year, and grumbling about Dumbledore canceling Quidditch for the year. After all, the Tournament was only three tasks. Why couldn't they have both? In the end they determined to consult Professor Snape and then put it to a vote once they talked to him.

The entire school seemed a little more eager for classes to begin and time to pass than they usually did. Students were talking about the Tournament and little else, debating who the Hogwarts Champion would be.

"Harry!" Fred and George literally collided with him in the corridor as he and Draco were leaving the library and heading towards Herbology with the Ravenclaws.

"Moody is wicked!" George exclaimed.

"Wait 'till you have lessons with him!" Fred looked eager.

"We have to get started on our essay!"

"See ya!"

"Did I hear them right?" Draco watched the redheads bound away into the library, his head shaking.

Harry nodded, "They're actually starting homework earlier than the night before it's due."

"Moody must be good," Draco scowled. Moody had arrested Lucius Malfoy at least once during the war.

Harry nodded hesitantly, "He is. I've had a few private lessons from him."

Draco's head snapped, "Really?"

"Yes, and yes he is as paranoid as everyone says, or maybe even more so," Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I've gotten a dark detector from him every year since for my birthday. He scares Neville silly."

Draco just nodded, and frowned. Harry remembered his own resolve not to bring Moody into conversation with his Slytherin friends and knew it would no longer be possible to avoid. He did not look forward to their reactions to his classes.

Alastor Moody was not as close to the Potters as Sirius and Remus, or even Kingsley and Tonks, but he had been his father's mentor, and when Harry was little he had called him 'Uncle Alastor'. It was going to be a difficult year.

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	36. Chapter 36

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**Chapter Thirty-Six**

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Harry sat quietly behind his curtained bed, an Imperturbable Charm assuring his privacy. He was deeply centered and focusing on his hands. After years of lessons with Remus and his mother, Harry could easily control one element and oftentimes two at once. He needed work manipulating all three though, which was what he was doing that morning long before breakfast. Harry had woken even earlier than usual, and had decided to get in some focusing work before his yoga and shower.

As his cousin Dudley had seen, Harry had a small ball of flame jumping clockwise from fingertip to fingertip in his right hand, his dominant hand. In his left hand there was a large drop of water circling from fingertip to fingertip counterclockwise. All this was made slightly more difficult by the column of wind surrounding Harry, but not touching his curtains.

He had never described to his family how it felt to work with the elements. When he was little he knew he told Remus it felt good, but he was simplifying. At that age he didn't have the vocabulary or experience to define the almost sexual euphoria of the fire, or cool serenity of the water, and the rush from the wind. It did not escape him that all his dreams that left him with sticky sheets in the morning, getting more frequent as he got older, involved not just some girl or boy he found attractive, but also fire or water, or sometimes wind. A particularly intense dream would take place in the midst of a storm, thus involving all three of his elements.

Deep breaths helped to keep his focus, and Harry was determined not to slip. The flame did not flicker. The water remained a perfectly round sphere. The wind howled in his ears. Each element was strong, and isolated from any of the others.

There was a small flash of light, not something that Harry caused, and he fought to maintain his control. Distractions were bad, but he had to know what had gotten past his Charm.

"Fuck," Harry muttered as he quickly banished the wind. He brought his hands together and there was a much stronger flash of light, white but nearly blue in its intensity.

There was a piece of parchment sitting on his bed.

_Imperturbable Charm Harry? Have you got company in there?_



_D_

Harry felt like cursing his friend. Brie didn't know how to get around an Imperturbable yet, and Neville hadn't managed to cast the correct series of spells, but it shouldn't surprise Harry that Draco could do it. There was a silent agreement at Potter Manor that an Imperturbable Charm meant whoever was on the other side needed privacy, usually for some work they were doing that was dangerous to interrupt, and that the understanding was not to be abused, nor was the use of the charm. Only emergencies warranted breaching the Charm.

A few movements with his wand took down the Charm and Harry pulled his curtains open to see a smirking Draco.

"What the hell are you doing up?" Harry snapped, irritated at being interrupted. "And just who do you think I would have hidden in here?"

Draco continued to smirk, "I woke up for no reason I can gather, and I can't sleep, so I decided to bother you since you're always up early." Draco poked his head in the curtains, "And it looks like you don't have any company."

"No, I don't," Harry felt a little of his irritation slip away. Draco couldn't possibly know what he had disturbed. "I was doing some focus exercises, and thanks to you I almost lost it completely."

"Sorry," Draco said though he did not seem to mean it at all. He joined Harry sitting on the bed. "Why was the door burned and wet?"

"Huh?" Harry had no idea what door Draco was referring to.

Draco looked down, "The closet door, when we all found you that day. It looked like someone had cast a few dozen _Incendios_ on it, and then hit it with a bunch of Peeves's water balloons."

"It did?" Harry felt a heavy dread. Remus and Neville hadn't told him that he had done that. Draco nodded. "I lost control."

"Harry?" Draco inched forward, until their knees were touching. It was like that one spot of Harry's body was suddenly charged. It tingled and heated up and he began to have an inkling of what had been missing with Tracey. "He told me... Longbottom that is... about why you freaked. The letter he wrote didn't say a thing about that door though."

Harry had no idea if he could trust Draco. They were friends, but then they weren't, and it was awfully confusing. Then there was this charge between them. Harry almost felt like his magic was reaching out for Draco's. He suddenly decided to trust and held his palm up between them. With his other hand he spelled the curtains shut and Imperturbable again. He didn't need to concentrate for the ball of flame to appear, cupped in his hand.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Draco. Grey eyes went round and locked onto Harry's. He knew some of the things going through Draco's mind, knew that Draco could feel the heat from the fire and was wondering why it didn't burn Harry.

Harry held his other hand palm down over the flame and closed his hands together, then pulled them apart and where there had been a ball of flame there was now water. He made the water change shape, and it was a snitch, and then a dragon.

Wind picked up within the enclosure of the bed and Harry made his water dragon fly. It opened its mouth and he made the water dragon breathe fire, then had the wind blow through the water and fire and they both vanished, the wind instantly dying down.

"You... you're...," Draco's eyes remained as wide as they had grown when Harry first summoned the fire.

Harry nodded and tucked his head down. His breathing had accelerated and he felt incredible, "I can control three elements." He looked back up, his eyes entreating, "You can't tell anyone Draco, not your goons, not your parents, no one. If you have to... Neville and Professor Snape both know."

"Three," Draco said quietly, almost reverently. He blinked and seemed to be working hard to regain his composure. "What were you doing... before?"

Harry inched himself backwards so they weren't sitting so close, and felt a twinge of disappointment from the loss of contact. He demonstrated, and Draco watched in awe, eventually blending into the background so that Harry almost forgot the other boy was there. Harry's wand started to flash silently at the time he normally woke up, and he stopped his exercise.

Draco was silent as Harry went about his morning routine. Throughout the morning it was difficult to get a word out of the blond, normally boisterous Slytherin, as if he was lost in thought somewhere far away from the rest of the population of Hogwarts.

It wasn't until Defense Against the Dark Arts that Draco finally spoke up that day.

The Slytherins as a whole seemed determined not to give in to the prevailing attitude that Mad-Eye Moody was the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts since Albus Dumbledore himself. The fourth year Slytherin class sat with their backs straight and eyes forward, none of them speaking or moving a muscle as they waited for Moody to begin class.

The retired Auror grunted, "At least I don' need to tell this class to pay attention."

There was no response from the Slytherins. Of all of them, Harry was quite obviously the most relaxed, but he knew from his own lessons with Moody that the man was unpredictable and could give a practical, and painful or humiliating depending on his mood, lesson in vigilance at any moment.

"I need not call roll, as most of ye are the spitting images of yer parents, or aunts and uncles, and the rest of ye are close enough," Moody tossed a roll of parchment onto his desk. "Now then, I've spoken with Professor Lupin, and he's told me you've had a good grounding in dangerous creatures, but you're far behind on curses. It's my task to get you up to speed this year before I go back to my quiet retirement."

There were a few smirks breaking out, as the whole wizarding world was well aware that Moody's life was anything but quiet. After the incident with his enchanted dustbins just that summer his history of extreme paranoia had been splashed all over the _Prophet_.

Harry had been in the Auror Department with his father and Sirius when one of the articles came out. It had caused not a few laughs there, as Moody was well known to all Aurors. There was even a sign over the entrance to the Department that read _'Constant Vigilance',_ identical to but larger than the plaque in his father's office. It was tradition to salute the sign as an Auror entered the Department.

"I expect all of ye to know a bit more about curses than the rest of yer classmates. Potter!" Moody snapped. Harry raised his eyebrows just a bit in acknowledgment. "Tell me what the three Unforgivable Curses are."

"The Imperious Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse," Harry recited.

Moody nodded, "Malfoy! What is the penalty for using one of the curses on a fellow human?"

"A life sentence in Azkaban, _sir_," Draco said sharply, looking tense. The whole class knew he had an aunt and two uncles in Azkaban for that reason.

"What makes these three, out of all the curses you all know, Unforgivable?" Moody's magical eye scanned the room while he remained perfectly still. Harry raised his hand, along with a few others. "Nott!"

"There is no known way to block any of the three curses, though the Imperious may be fought, but it takes a very strong will," Ted answered, keeping his voice pitched low and steady.

Harry knew people, and he included himself, that had been hit by each of those curses. It was part of Auror training to learn to resist the Imperious, and Harry's father had started him on that over the summer once his mother and the Longbottoms assured him that Harry had learned Occlumency. Harry had almost been frightened at how quickly he picked that ability up. It was like second nature.

Moody summoned a large jar from his office and Harry saw three spiders crawling around inside it. He felt a shiver work its way up his spine. He had a feeling he knew exactly what those spiders were for.

Harry was right. Moody took out the first and set it on his desk. The whole class was watching with something akin to fascination.

"As Mr. Nott said it is possible to fight this curse, though it takes a strong minded individual to do so," Moody pointed his wand at the spider.

_Imperio!_

He made the spider tap dance and turn cartwheels. He spoke to them as he tweaked his wand this way and that, "I could make it bite you, jump down your throats, TOTAL CONTROL! There's many a witch and wizard avoided Azkaban thirteen years ago by claiming they were under the effects of this curse. Without the advancements we have now in truth serums and the like there was no knowing if they told the truth or not."

Harry noticed that Moody looked pointedly at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle as he spoke. All three of their fathers had claimed to have committed crimes as Death Eaters only under the influence of the Imperious Curse. Moody put the spider back and it crouched at the base of the jar as far out of reach as it could. The second was brought out.

"It needs to be a bit bigger for you to appreciate this," Moody enlarged the spider.

_Crucio!_

The class as a whole jumped just slightly. They all knew the incantations for these curses, to recognize what to dodge if nothing else. Harry felt his scar start to twinge a bit. He could picture Neville, only two years old, screaming and writhing just like that spider writhed. Harry knew his parents had felt that curse, most of those he considered family had.

"Stop," Harry said quietly, firmly, and then louder, more insistent, "Stop!"

Moody did, his gaze on Harry, most of the class splitting their attention between Harry and their professor, "Don't like that, do you? What would you do to stop feeling that pain, to stop someone you love from feeling that? CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The spider was reduced back to its regular size and returned to the jar, where it continued to twitch. The other spiders crept away from it. The third spider, as if it knew what was coming, tried to run the instant it hit the desktop. Moody kept summoning it back though, and he gave no introduction to the next curse.

_Avada Kedavra!_

A jet of green light shot out of his wand and hit the spider, which just froze in place and tipped over. Its legs didn't move at all, not even when Moody prodded it with his wand. Harry knew that green light. He saw it when the dementors were near, and at least once a week since then in his nightmares.

"There is no way to block this curse, and there is only one known survivor," Moody said gravely, and Harry felt every eye in the room turn to him. All he could do was stare at the spider, his mouth dry and his head aching.

Before he knew he had stood up, Harry heard his chair clatter on the floor. He grabbed his bag and swept out of the room, his robes twirling around him like there was an invisible wind that was felt only by Harry. The corridors were quiet, as class had not let out yet. He could get Draco's notes on the rest of the lecture.

Right then Harry needed to get somewhere he could be alone. His head was pounding and his temper was on a fine edge, ready to topple either way.

What was Moody playing at? How dare he act like that? Harry only prayed that the man didn't cast those curses in front of Brie's class. If that man upset his little sister... Harry felt his irritation bubbling up even higher just at the thought. Harry wondered if he had ever really known Alastor Moody.

This man who was teaching him was not like the infrequent visitor to Potter Manor. Maybe it was all the Slytherins. Moody was well known for his hatred of everything dark, and Harry was sure he classified almost all Slytherins as dark automatically, just as most of the wizarding world did.

He would write to Remus, Harry decided. His parents were out, as was Sirius. All three of them would have a fit if they knew that Moody was demonstrating the Unforgivable Curses to fourteen year old students. Harry wondered if Dumbledore knew, then realized he had to know. While there were many things that escaped the man's notice, use of those curses in the castle would not.

In his room Harry threw his bag down and focused his frustration... anger... confusion... he couldn't really identify what he was feeling but he directed it to the fireplace and made the fire leap high. He let his consciousness get absorbed into the dancing flames.

Without really paying attention to what he was doing Harry reached out a hand. The fire obeyed his commands and jumped from hearth to hand. It spread over his skin, his robes, but did not singe a single thread or hair. He felt it coat his hair, his face, until he was a creature of living flame.

Harry looked in a mirror and nearly lost it. He looked like some demon, fiery from head to toe. He breathed deeply, and almost imagined he could taste the fire. It was exhilarating, like this was what he was meant to be. He had never done anything like this. His lessons had always been to control, to minimize, never to let go and see what the elements wanted to do.

His breathing was getting faster, and Harry was getting frightened. With a great mental push the fire was back where it belonged, burning merrily in its grate. Harry was shaking, and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't tell his parents or Sirius or Remus about _this_. They would all panic. Harry went over the very short list of adults who could help him, who knew something about what he was, and he was left with the Headmaster and Professor Snape.

Dumbledore was out of the question. He would almost certainly tell the Potters, or he would keep the information for his own use somewhere down the road.

Harry was still angry with Snape for Remus, even though Remus professed he did not care one way or another, but it looked like Snape was his only option.

Harry was waiting when class let out, the last classes of the day. He ignored the curious looks of the sixth year N.E.W.T. class, the twins among them, and went straight up to Snape's desk, "Can I talk to you sir?"

"You covered your entire body?" Snape asked incredulously after Harry finished his tale. They were in the professor's office, in the seats in front of the fire. Nothing had been said about the previous year, or Remus, and Harry knew neither of them would broach the subject.

Harry nodded, "It felt... amazing, sir... and natural."

"Can you do the same with water?" Snape asked, his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

He shrugged, then stood and concentrated. It was easy enough to summon the water, and Harry held out his hands. Like with the fire, the water started there, and slowly covered every bit of him. He moved, and the water moved with him. He breathed through the water without difficulty, like he did when he was swimming in the lake at home. The feeling of being surrounded by the water was different than the fire. It was less sexual in its euphoria, more serene. It was gone with little more than a thought.

"It's not quite the same sir," Harry tried to explain, but found he was at a loss for words.

He was not the only one struck dumb. Snape's mouth was open, but no sound came out. Harry looked around the room quickly before finding what he sought, a corner cabinet with solid doors, too small to be for dangerous potions ingredients. Harry dismantled the wards easily and pulled out fire whiskey and a shot glass. He poured a generous amount and handed it to his professor.

Snape tossed back the shot and accepted another. He then looked down at the glass, and up at Harry, giving him a sharp glare, "You will not open that cabinet ever again Mr. Potter, is that clear?"

Harry nodded, "Sorry sir. I thought you could use a drink."

The Potions Master looked like was stuck between wanting to punish Harry and wanting to thank him, and he settled for doing neither. "What has your instruction concerning your unusual talents consisted of?"

"Just control sir," Harry returned to his seat, leaving his professor with the bottle and glass. Resetting the wards would not be the best move on his part. No doubt Snape was going to make them a lot stronger. "Mum and Dad had Remus teaching me, since he has more control than anyone I've ever met. He has to." The flinch that Snape couldn't control did not go unnoticed. "They were more concerned with me learning how to stop them than learning how to use them."

"So you were taught to control your emotions, to bottle things up?" Snape returned to his deep thinking look.

"Mostly," Harry agreed. "It was so much easier before Hogwarts started. Here there's just so much going on, all the time. I can't exactly stop to meditate when I get upset."

"No you cannot," Snape nodded his head slowly. "Do you find useful outlets for your anger and other strong emotions, or do you keep everything bottled up inside?"

Harry looked down, his bowed head answer enough. He thought back through the years, and somewhat snidely remarked to himself that it had been easier when he was constantly getting into duels with Draco in the common room.

"It is unhealthy for anyone to bottle up their feelings Harry, but more dangerous for you than anyone else I would think," Snape said sternly. Harry looked up at the use of his given name.

"When you do give in and release through fire, or water, or wind, you must be releasing several days of pent up emotion. As a teenager, you no doubt get angry often, not to mention the level of many other strong emotions." Harry flushed bright red, guessing what his teacher was alluding to. "Should you need release in a safe environment Harry, do not fear to seek me out. We can test the limits of what you can do with your elements, or I am always up for a friendly duel."

There was a challenging light in Snape's eyes, and Harry knew that the man was interested in finding out exactly how much Harry's parents and other family had taught him.

"Thank you sir," Harry said quietly, tempted himself to have a place to test his elemental control further. Potter Manor was not really a good place for it, not with his siblings there. Harry would always be afraid of accidentally hurting them, like he almost hurt Brie that one time. "I think I would like that."

"Get yourself to the great hall then," Snape returned to his stern classroom bearing. "Make sure you get plenty of sleep this evening. We have guests arriving tomorrow, and I want all my Slytherins at their best."

"Yes sir," Harry felt groaning as he left the office. He had completely forgotten about the impending arrival of the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton. It was somewhat good though. With any luck, the attention would be completely off Harry that year and focused entirely on the three Champions.

Harry forgot about Alastor Moody and his anger towards the retired Auror. The letter he had intended to write to Remus completely slipped his mind.

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	37. Chapter 37

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

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Severus looked down at the whiskey bottle, and at the glass on the table next to his chair, "Brat."

It would figure that James Potter's son was the one student, who, after over a dozen years of students trying, would figure out the wards on his liquor cabinet at only fourteen, and with Severus in the room. He would need to cast new, stronger wards. If Potter could dismantle those in his fourth year, what would he be capable of by his seventh?

There were very few studies of elemental magic and those who could wield the power of the elements. Severus had found every book available (and some of those not readily available) after Lily had told him about her eldest son's talents. Given the prevalent attitude towards Elementals, that they were inherently dark and evil, it was no wonder that those who did have the ability usually hid it.

Potter could easily become dark. With his sorting into Slytherin and his early training in curses and defense it was almost inevitable. Evil, though, that child was not, and not likely to be. The idea of an evil Potter was laughable. As Slytherin as that boy was, he had a streak of Gryffindorishness that would always assure he did the right thing, saved little puppy dogs and helped old ladies cross the street... almost sickening.

Severus sneered. No, Potter would never be evil, but if the public discovered his talents he would ostracized, possibly persecuted. With Fudge in office Merlin only knew what could happen. Potter was certainly lucky his parents had lived. With James Potter so high in the Ministry he was in a position to protect his son.

It hit Severus like a Bludgeoning Curse, which he had felt many years ago much to his chagrin. The Potters had planned further ahead than anyone knew. Severus had heard people wondering why James spent so much time at the Ministry, dedicated himself to his career the way he did so soon after his return.

All the theories Severus remembered, that it was his way of dealing with the pain from what he went through, that he wanted to make sure every last Death Eater was put behind bars... they were all wrong.

James had one intention in rising as high as he did, in neglecting his family to some extent as anyone had to in order to advance so quickly. In the Potter family it all boiled down to one thing – protect Harry. They had failed once, and they would not fail again. As Head Auror James Potter could practically move mountains to protect his child.

He scratched at his arm. It had started that summer, the darkening of the Mark, and Severus knew that the Potters were informed. Albus told them everything now, especially after the number of times he had one or both of them in his office yelling so loud that the whole staff could hear as they gathered outside the gargoyle, wincing and smirking. It was not often that one heard the great Albus Dumbledore being soundly lectured like a miscreant child.

Lily had stopped in his office just after the end of the last term after the latest Dumbledore rant. Apparently Fudge had heard worse though, as placing the dementors on Hogwarts grounds had been his call.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix were on alert. Severus never thought that such a thing would frighten him as much as it did. According to Lily, Dumbledore's second-in-command for the Order, the Longbottom brat had heard another prophecy from the flake in the North Tower. He had discounted it... until the Mark started to itch, started to get darker, and then was cast in the air that summer.

It was a shadow of what it once was, what it was when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power, and it was getting darker. The progress was gradual, but it could only mean one thing. The Dark Lord was getting stronger.

Severus was watching Harry Potter closely. It was obvious to Severus, to the observing skills of a spy, that Potter was feeling the same impending darkness in his scar. The boy frequently showed just a touch of pain in his eyes, and Severus had seen him rub his scar more than once that year.

Dinner was thankfully uneventful, though Harry's classmates obviously had questions for him. Severus was mildly surprised that Moody had not subtracted points for Potter leaving his class early, and without permission. As the retired Auror glared his way Severus sneered. It shouldn't surprise him. No doubt Moody favored the son of his protégé.

An hour before curfew Severus made a rare appearance in the Slytherin Common Room. He knew that none of his students were in library, and those roaming the halls or planning illicit rendezvous could hear the information from their Housemates. Only moments after he arrived the dorms had cleared and nearly every Slytherin was paying strict attention to their Head of House.

"As you all know, we will have visitors here shortly from the two other prestigious schools of magic in Europe," Severus eyed his students sternly. Not one of them would dare take an address from him lightly, but it never hurt to enforce his image as the penultimate Slytherin. "I expect all of you to conduct yourselves as is appropriate for Slytherins. Your manners will be impeccable.

"On a related note, every one of you that will be of age by Halloween is expected to submit his or her name for Champion. While a Hogwarts win is strongly desired, a Slytherin win would be that much more... satisfying," Severus smirked, and saw the dreams of grandeur lighting up eyes all around him.

He was not all that surprised to see relief in Potter's eyes. He was too young to participate, and so the spotlight would not find him that year.

Severus left his House to their own devices for the night, trusting them to ready themselves as was necessary. Peer pressure would take care of those who tended to be slovenly or rude. Severus was pleased to see that the look of superiority that Lucius wore like a favorite cloak was starting to fade from Draco's face. He had no doubt that Potter had something to do with that.

Draco's eyes kept wandering to his roommate, and the mix of emotions there was easy for Severus to read. Potter appeared oblivious, and Severus determined to watch the two of them, for his own entertainment if nothing else. His responsibility as Draco's godfather notwithstanding, he was interested in how their friendship would progress, and if it would go beyond friendship, as Draco clearly desired even if Draco himself was not aware yet.

This was yet another tidbit that Severus planned to keep from the old man. Albus knew far too much as it was, and Severus found he was keeping more and more secrets to himself. He had informed him, of course, about his Mark, and kept him updated, but those things where the Dark Lord or the safety of the school was not concerned, Severus held close. It was a game that both he and Minerva tended to play... try to surprise the headmaster.

He was not looking forward to the arrival of the Durmstrang contingency. Beauxbatons he could care less about, even if he was looking forward to watching Hagrid make a fool of himself when he met a woman his own size for the first time, but Durmstrang meant Igor Karkaroff, his former associate, the one who had turned after a brief stint in Azkaban and named not only Severus, but many others that carried the Dark Mark on their arms.

Severus may have been a spy, but Igor was just a traitor. He was only trying to save his own hide, and he succeeded, succeeded beyond anyone's expectations. Severus, however, had risked his life every moment he lived after becoming Albus's spy in the Inner Circle, and had little to show for his work on the side of light. True, he had access to any potions materials he needed, and free reign for experimentation, within reasonable propriety, but he was simply a Hogwarts Professor, bound to Albus and the castle until the Dark Lord was gone for good.

"Straighten that tie!" Minerva barked. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair!"

Severus smirked. Minerva was in quite a state as she reviewed her Gryffindors, making sure they were turned out appropriately for the arrival of their guests. Filius and Pomona were in a similar situation, though Filius had resorted to summoning inappropriate accessories and casting various charms to iron out wrinkles and straighten garments. In one case he had to confiscate a copy of _The Quibbler_. If Severus was not mistaken the girl's father owned the magazine.

The Slytherins were all dressed impeccably. Potter kept shooting little glares at Draco, who just lifted his eyebrows and smirked at the dark haired boy. Severus did wonder what that was about, but at the first gasp from one of the Ravenclaws the exchange between the two boys stopped. They both put on a mask of somewhat aloof interest, making all the Slytherins look like an extended family of some sort. Every one of them had the same look on their face. Severus could not be more proud of them.

"Are you all quite ready?" Severus asked his fellow Heads smoothly as they joined him in the reception line. Minerva glowered, while Pomona rolled her eyes and Filius ignored him. Severus let his smirk linger.

"Not everyone scares their students into dressing properly," Minerva grumbled.

"And who does that?" Severus asked her as though oblivious to her insinuation. "I cannot help that my students were raised with proper wizarding manners and that they help their Housemates when they are found lacking."

"And how was Harry lacking?" Filius asked as the Beauxbatons carriage same into view above the lake, the students 'ooh'ing and 'ah'ing over the magnificent horses that pulled it.

So he was not the only one who noticed the glares.

"Mr. Malfoy probably made him wear undergarments," Minerva said with a touch of her own smirk, or was she fighting back laughter?

"Min!" Pomona chastised her fellow Head of House.

Severus just looked at her with raised eyebrows, "And how is you know what young Mr. Potter has or does not have under his uniform?"

Minerva did laugh then, "So you don't know then. I recall a full year when James and Lily could not get any clothes at all on that boy, even during the winter. Lily has complained more than once of her eldest's disdain for clothing of any sort. He wears as little as he can get away with."

"Sweet Merlin," Pomona shook her head, her cheeks bright red.

No further conversation could be had on Harry Potter though, and his lack of undergarments, or clothing in general. That was the sort of thing that would become well-known within a dorm room, but not necessarily the House overall.

Severus overheard the debate on what kind of horses Durmstrang would have and rolled his eyes. Igor would certainly not arrive the same way that Madame Maxime did. Only moments late he was proved correct. The ship was impressive, but not quite as much as one of the students who disembarked.

Hogwarts might have the famous Harry Potter, but Durmstrang had Victor Krum, Seeker for the Bulgarian National Team from the World Cup just that summer. Severus noticed the satisfied smile that appeared on Harry's face as the girls swooned over the arrival of the famous quidditch player and the boys started to argue the best way to get an autograph.

If Severus was not mistaken, Potter almost seemed to be fading into the shadows, quite literally. It may have been that his roommates Crabbe and Goyle were directly behind him and towered over him, but it may have been an intentional move.

Harry Potter was certainly almost nothing like his father, and Severus was glad of it. He much preferred this brand of Potter. His sister, on the other hand, was far too Marauder-like for Severus's comfort.

"Igor," Severus nodded at the man as he took the seat to his left. He wished Igor would sit somewhere else, but it was only natural that he seek out the only other former servant of the Dark Lord within several miles radius, unless one of them had recently moved to Hogsmeade.

"Severus," Igor greeted him. "Is it true what I hear?"

"You will have to be more specific Igor," Severus said, his voice dripping with disdain, "as we do not share the same pair of ears."

"Is Harry Potter a Slytherin?" Igor practically whispered.

Severus turned and smirked, enjoying the moment of superiority, "Why yes, Igor, he is. I believe he is seated across from Mr. Krum."

Igor's head snapped up and over to the Slytherin table. It was no surprise, again, that the Durmstrang students had chosen to sit with the Slytherins. Durmstrang accepted only pureblood students and their curriculum was vastly different from the one taught at Hogwarts. Divination was not an elective, but was taught only to those who had potential to be Seers. The Dark Arts were taught in conjunction with Defense, and all the classes were more interrelated.

The Durmstrang students may also have sensed that the Slytherins students would be the only ones who did not pepper them with the same question over and over, 'Does Durmstrang _really_ teach the Dark Arts?' The gestures coming from his table indicated that quidditch was the main topic of discussion, with Krum and Potter at the center of the conversation.

Albus explained the Goblet of Fire, and that protections against underage students entering would be enacted. The Goblet was lit, and placed outside the great hall, where everyone would walk by it in the morning. As the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students walked out of the hall they each deposited a slip with their name, age, and school name. The same was done by each Slytherin age seventeen and above.

Harry Potter, though, remained behind and was among the last students to leave the hall, not even giving the Goblet a second glance as he walked by it on his way down to the dungeons. In Severus's eyes, the boy looked content for the first time since he had met him.

Halloween arrived swiftly, and the students and staff alike eagerly awaited the names to be given by the Goblet of Fire. They had more visitors, Bartemious Crouch and Ludo Bagman, who would be acting as the impartial judges for the Tournament. Severus noted the dirty look that Potter gave Crouch, and the man's mild flinch under the stare.

It seemed that Potter held a grudge, as the only slight against him that Severus could think of was the hasty imprisonment of Sirius Black. Of course, if Albus was to be believed, Black was affected to this day by his stint in Azkaban. Severus did know firsthand that Black could not conjure a Patronus, no doubt the dementors too strong for him.

The feast was over more quickly than any previous year, even the feast interrupted by Quirrell's troll. Hagrid carried the Goblet into the hall, placing it before Albus.

"As I read each Champion's name, please rise, and proceed to the Chamber off the hall," Albus gestured to a door to the back and right of the staff. "Remember that however qualified all those who entered may be only one Champion will be selected per school."

The flames turned green and a piece of parchment rose up to level with Albus's hands. He read in a clear voice, "For Durmstrang, Victor Krum!"

Applause broke out all around the hall. Krum certainly was the popular choice, and Igor looked decidedly smug as his prize student took his place as the first Champion.

"For Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table went wild, and polite applause sounded from the other Houses. The Diggory boy had to submit to at least a dozen hugs before he made it away from the Hufflepuffs and through the door. Severus knew that every Slytherin shared his thoughts at that moment. _At least it isn't a Gryffindor._

"For Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!"

Again there was polite applause from the entire hall, and a girl with hair that could only mean she had Veela blood walked with astonishing grace towards the back of the hall. Several of her fellow students, the majority of them female, were crying in disappointment.

That was it then. Severus relaxed somewhat, as there was no pressure on him whatsoever. Amusingly, he shared Potter's view. There would at least be one year when the craziness at Hogwarts did not directly involve him.

He should not have spoken so soon.

The flames turned green again, and everyone watched with mystified expressions. The three Champions had been chosen.

Albus held a fourth slip of parchment in his hand, and Severus knew that only he and Minerva recognized the sudden fear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and read aloud, "Harry Potter."

There was silence. Potter was frozen in his seat, his friends looking at him in disbelief. Albus repeated his name, and Draco was the first to snap out of it. He urged Potter to stand and gave him a gentle push towards the doors. Bagman followed quickly and Severus cursed to himself. He waited for Albus though, as it would be presumptuous for him to leave the table first.

Finally, after a quiet conference between Albus and Crouch, the two of them headed towards the Chamber, with Igor Karkaroff and Olympe Maxime. Minerva joined Severus, and the students all broke out in louder whispers, sounding rather angry. Minerva shut the Chamber door behind them all, and the sounds faded away.

Severus took a spot against the wall to watch Potter. He looked like he was in shock, standing with the other Champions, dwarfed by every one of them. The Champions and the Headmasters and Headmistress argued about the inclusion of a fourth Champion, and Potter offered nothing except the occasional flinch. It was rather tasteless of the girl to refer to him as a 'little boy', even if Potter was small for his age.

Albus questioned Potter, who insisted that he had not put his name in the Goblet, and when Severus tried to discreetly use Legilimency to assure the accuracy of his claim, he found himself cleanly ejected from the boy's mind before he got so much as a glimpse. Potter's eyes snapped to his and glared. Severus lifted an eyebrow. Potter was an Occlumens, and apparently a rather good one. Severus wondered if Albus knew.

The arguments continued, and both Karkaroff and Maxime insisted that the Goblet of Fire be relit and two more Champions be selected. Bagman nervously tried to make peace, while Crouch only offered his curt interpretation of the rules – anyone whose name came out of the Goblet legally had to choice but to compete. McGonagall was vehement in her defense of Dumbledore.

Severus noticed Moody entering and tensed. That man would never leave him alone, never accept that Severus had turned, and the instant their eyes met, both narrowed. Moody, however, turned his attention to Karkaroff, who was threatening to take his Champion and leave, like a spoiled child who decided to run and take the quaffle with him when the quidditch game didn't go his way.

"Empty threat," growled Moody. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Igor went just a shade paler and his hands balled into fists. He was far more frightened of Moody than Severus was, as Moody had been the one to capture and interrogate Igor Karkaroff so many years ago.

Severus wondered how long it would take Karkaroff and Maxime to see what was going on, or if they ever would. Of course, they didn't have to live with the yearly attempts on Potter's life like the staff at Hogwarts did.

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter _is_ going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of growl.

Silence followed and Severus saw Potter's eyes harden. The boy swallowed deeply, but continued to watch the exchange quietly, half hidden in the shadows.

The argument went on, and Severus found himself agreeing with Moody, much to his distaste. It would take some very powerful magic to hoodwink an object like the Goblet, and while Severus thought Potter capable of such magic, it was completely out of character for the boy to go such lengths just to get attention. He had no doubt that Potter would happily fade into obscurity if he could.

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

That was what it boiled down to, and no one had an answer for Dumbledore. Igor glowered, and Maxime glared, but neither of them had a viable solution.

At Bagman's urging, Crouch stepped forward to explain the first task.

"The first task is to test your daring," Crouch told Potter, Diggory, Krum, and Delacour, "so we are not going to tell you what it is. Courage in the face of the unexpected is an important quality in a wizard... very important..."

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges."

Crouch continued on to explain the rules. There was a neat little loophole, a Slytherin loophole if ever one existed. The students were not allowed to ask for or accept any help from their teachers, but it said nowhere that fellow students could not help. No doubt a Gryffindor would interpret it that way, but Severus had no doubt that his entire House would insist on helping Harry.

It was the Slytherin way.

Severus listened in as Potter and Diggory talked once everyone was gone. It was clear that the Hufflepuff did not believe Potter. Severus fell in beside Potter as he headed down to the dungeons.

"Keep your head about you Potter," Severus said as they neared the common room. "You will need it." Potter did not respond and Severus smirked ever so slightly. "And Potter, I am interested in hearing how you learned Occlumency. I wonder, does the Headmaster know?"

Potter's head snapped around, and from his expression it was clear that Albus had no idea that Potter had yet another unusual skill. Before Potter could say a word, Severus turned and strode away. He had to speak with Albus, but he would keep this discovery to himself.

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	38. Chapter 38

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

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"Harry!"

Cheers greeted Harry as he entered the common room, and Snape did not follow him. A quick look back and Harry saw the billowing black robes disappear around a corner, headed back upstairs, probably to discuss the latest Potter Catastrophe with the headmaster.

There were handshakes and hugs from all his Housemates, and every one of them asked how he had tricked the Goblet. None of them put it past him – no one would put it past any Slytherin. Only a few of them gave him concerned looks, the majority of his yearmates knowing full well that he hated his fame and wanted to avoid attention whenever possible.

There was butterbeer and a wide variety of snacks, even though they had just had a feast. They eventually got the clue for the first task out of Harry and a large group of older students set to speculating what it would be.

"What's Harry's weakest subject?" one of the seventh year prefects called out.

Every fourth year answered together, Harry included, "Potions."

That elicited quite a bit of snickering, as their Head of House was the Potions Master.

Harry didn't know why, but Draco dragged him over to the older students, "It's not as bad as it sounds. He's top of our class for Defense, and close for Transfiguration and Charms."

"Why do you need to know?" Harry asked them warily.

They all looked at him like he was missing something big. One of the sixth year boys answered for them, "You're one of us Harry, and we're going to do everything we can to help you win. Professor Snape says it every year. Slytherin is a family."

Harry was completely taken aback. One of the seventh year girls ruffled his hair, "You may have been too busy saving the school every year to notice, but we're _all _here to help you... always."

"We're not supposed to have help...," Harry really couldn't think of anything else to say.

"What are you, a Gryff?" Warrington, one of their Chasers, asked him. He would graduate that year, and they needed to replace him for the next season. Harry flushed and was about to reply when the rest of them laughed, "Cheating is a traditional part of the Tournament Harry. You can bet every Galleon your family has that Krum and Delacour will be getting help from their Heads."

"What about Cedric?" Harry was still a little stunned by this latest turn of events. He would do anything to get out of competing.

Groans answered him and Draco rolled his eyes, dragging Harry away again. He didn't know why he was letting Draco lead him from group to group, but he didn't really care right then.

"Look Harry," Draco brought him to a quite corner and looked him in the eye, "you're three years younger than all the other contestants, not to mention that you're only half the size of the girl. You need every advantage you can get."

"Draco," Harry bit his lip and looked down, "I didn't enter my name. I swear I didn't."

"Then who did?" Harry shrugged. "Why?"

Harry shrugged again, "Maybe they're trying to kill me? That seems to be the primary reason for anything strange that happens around here."

Draco looked unsettled by Harry's comments, and Harry rubbed his forehead. He was getting another headache. Rather than getting into a discussion about it, Harry just ducked under his friend's arm and headed up to his bed. He wasn't really in the mood for a party.

His nightmares were bad that night, and a sense of swiftly coming doom weighed over Harry. He dreaded facing the rest of the school. He knew exactly how they were going to react.

Harry Potter was a Slytherin, and a Parselmouth, so he must have used his evil dark skills to get his name selected as the fourth Champion. He wondered if anyone would notice if he barricaded himself into his room for the rest of the year.

It bothered him that no one trusted him outside his own House, no one except a handful of Gryffindors anyway. They were the reason he went to the hall early the morning after the Champions were selected. Harry at least wanted to make sure they knew the truth.

Brie seemed to be reading his mind. She was the first Gryffindor in the hall, as Harry was the first Slytherin. He headed straight for her, only to hear his name called in a familiar tone. Neville jogged to catch up and joined them.

"So?" Neville asked him eagerly.

Harry stared into his little sister's eyes, unblinking, "I did not enter my name, and I have no idea who did."

"Merlin," Brie breathed softly. "What do you think is going on?"

"I'm not sure I want to know," Harry shook his head. He felt Neville put a hand on his shoulder and he smiled. After their second year Harry had learned that Neville would never let him down. He lowered his voice, "Look, whoever entered me can't possibly know what I can do. I'm going to just concentrate on surviving this damned thing and keeping my head down as much as I can. Could you two let the twins and Hermione know that I didn't enter myself?"

"Of course," Neville responded.

Brie grinned and hugged him tightly, "You got it big brother."

"Thanks," Harry felt like a weight lifted off his back, though it was only one of many, as he hugged his little sister. "I'm getting out of here before the rest of your House shows up to lynch me."

His sister shook her head and rolled her eyes. Harry got up, making sure to muss her hair since she hated it so much, and crossed to take his usual seat at the Slytherin table.

Harry then had to write home, one of the most difficult letters he had ever composed. His parents would know full well that Harry had the ability to get his name in the Goblet. Harry could think of at least ten ways he could have gotten around Dumbledore's age line, from the Confundus Charm that Moody mentioned to using his elemental skills to first float the parchment into the Goblet and then force the fire in the Goblet to shoot out his name. He just had to convince his family that he didn't do any of that. He was pretty sure they would believe him, but he wasn't going to bet on it.

The following days proved that Harry was correct in his assessment of how the school would react. None of the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs wanted to partner with him in any of the classes they shared. Harry could barely pay attention, and was thankful they were covering summoning charms in Charms. He could summon in his sleep if he had to. It was one of the first Charms he had been taught.

He took Snape up on his offer of a duel more than once. It was exhilarating, dueling with someone who was not only highly skilled at the art, but who had a completely different style than Harry or any of his tutors. He was learning what it would be like, someday, when he would go up against Death Eaters, and the practice was invaluable. It was also fun. He and Snape were both pushed to their limits, physically and magically. Snape even encouraged him to use his elemental skills in conjunction with spells.

Hagrid was as faithful as ever. He had no doubts as to Harry's innocence, but he couldn't do anything about the badges that the Weasel and his friends made and distributed. They declared in bright lettering...

**SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGORY**

**THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION**

Then the badges would flash and the message would change.

**POTTER STINKS!**

The only consolation Harry had was that not the twins, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Brie, not to mention not a single Slytherin, wore the badges. Not even Cedric Diggory, who the badges were favoring, wore one. Harry even saw Diggory giving one of his own housemates a dirty look for flashing the badge at him. So Diggory might not believe him, but he wasn't going to be a jerk about it.

Draco's comments to Weasel were worse than ever before. He insulted him every time he saw his face and pushed all his buttons. Weasel had lost at least thirty points for pulling his wand on Draco, who just kept smirking and provoking him, Crabbe and Goyle cracking their knuckles menacingly in the background. The support of his House was keeping Harry going.

Harry was relieved when potions class came around. Weasel wouldn't dare try anything in that class, not with Snape preying on every slip he could catch a Gryffindor making, even more so of late.

"Excuse me!" Harry groaned. It was one of the Creevey brothers, both camera happy maniacs as far as Harry was concerned. Harry saw he had a modified badge on, but it was stuck on 'Potter Stinks', though the words were blurred a bit.

"Yes Mr. Creevey?" Snape practically dared the boy to step a foot in the room.

"Professor McGonagall sent me!" Harry wondered if everything Creevey said was an exclamation. "They need Harry Potter upstairs with the rest of the Champions! I think they're going to take some pictures!"

Harry felt like banging his head against his desk. He gave his Head of House a pleading look, but Snape shook his head just slightly, "Go Potter. Take your things with you."

Harry sighed and packed up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He didn't miss the hiss as he passed Weasel.

"Don't want to be late for your public Potter!"

He gritted his teeth and glared at the redhead before stalking out of the room. He did hear some voices behind him though.

"Professor, may I?" Draco called out.

There was no response but a moment later Draco came out of the door. He looked Harry up and down and shook his head, "You need to change first. These robes are all stained. Creevey wait here."

"But..." the Gryffindor stuttered.

Draco glared at him, "They very well can't start without him, can they?"

Harry was mildly amused by the helpless look on Creevy's face as he followed Draco to their room. Draco immediately opened Harry's wardrobe and started rifling through it. He paused and looked confused, "What the hell?"

"Dress robes," Harry said plainly. Draco gave him a look like he was crazy and Harry smirked, "You'll see."

Draco shook his head and went back to searching for the perfect robes, Harry watching him with a little interest. True to form, Harry had already managed to permanently stain half his robes.

"How do you manage this?" Draco held out a particularly stained robe that even had a little tear at the hem. Harry shrugged and Draco eventually found robes that satisfied him. They looked like they had never been worn. He tossed them to Harry and started going through ties, "Change."

"Yes sir," Harry saluted and ripped off the robes he was wearing, almost literally. He put on the robes, tie, and shoes that Draco gave him, submitting to the various polishing and straightening charms that the blond insisted on. Draco then attempted to tackle his hair.

"Will this rat's nest ever lie flat?" Draco huffed and crossed his arms.

"No," Harry felt his eyes starting to twinkle in laughter by then. Draco was fussing more than Harry's mother ever had.

"Fine," Draco proceeded to lead him back towards Potions and joined him as Harry followed Creevey up the stairs to a door Harry had never been through before. Creevey made to open it, but Draco stopped him. He fixed Harry's collar and tie and smoothed his robes with his hands. Harry tried not to let the fact that the other boy was touching him so intimately affect him, but it was a losing battle. "Let me see your wand."

Harry rolled his eyes, fighting thoughts of what else Draco could mean by that, but produced his wand, "Happy Mother?"

"At least you keep that polished," Draco ignored the 'Mother' comment. "You don't just represent Hogwarts, you represent your family and Slytherin."

With that, Draco turned around and headed back towards their class. Harry was in a much better mood than he had been when Creevey interrupted class. Draco continued to be an enigma, but Harry was starting not to care about that part. He just liked their friendship, liked having Draco around him, and secretly liked the fussing.

The first person Harry saw when he entered the room was Rita Skeeter and he swore under his breath, "Shit."

He looked around quickly and spotted Diggory, then nearly ran to his side. He whispered to the other Hogwarts Champion, "Whatever you do, please don't leave my side."

"Huh?" Diggory gave Harry a mystified look, but then he spotted Skeeter headed their way with a hungry look in her eyes. Understanding flashed in his eyes and he frowned in sudden comprehension, "You really do hate it all, don't you?"

Harry nodded and answered bitterly, "Can't stand it. I'd rather crawl into a dark corner and have everyone forget I exist... and I'm claustrophobic."

Diggory gave a little laugh, "Yep, you do belong in Slytherin."

Before Skeeter could reach the Hogwarts Champions Dumbledore entered the room followed by Ollivander, the Master Wand Craftsman of Great Britain.

"Will all the Champions please join us over here?" Dumbledore raised his hands to beckon them and the four teenagers silently obeyed, backs straight and proud.

Over the course of the next hour or so Harry did his very best to represent Slytherin and the Potter Family properly. He grudgingly smiled for the camera, but when the cameraman tried to drag Harry in front of the rest of the Champions Harry threatened him with an Auror investigation. Harry did not tend to brag about his father's position, but he was not above using it when he needed to.

Dumbledore merely chuckled and distracted Rita Skeeter with tales of past Tournaments he had witnessed and the gruesome injuries that occurred during them.

The days flew by leading up the first task. The article Rita Skeeter wrote was ridiculous. She tried to make Harry out as some sort of tragic hero, rejected by his family for being sorted into such an unpopular House. She barely mentioned the other Champions, despite the fact that the picture Harry continually tried to hide behind them in the only photo accompanying the article. The reaction to that in the Auror Department was going to be hilarious.

Harry's father, mother, Sirius, Remus, Ian, and Alex each sent a letter of their own in response to Harry being selected as the Hogwarts Champion, each of them also insulting Skeeter. Of all of the letters, Ian's was the most amusing, and Harry made certain to share with it with his Housemates.

"Listen to this Draco," Harry got the attention of his friends at breakfast the morning the letter came. "_You have no choice but to win Harry. There hasn't been a Slytherin Champion since the 1605 Tournament, and she was killed in the second task. Nor has there been a Potter Champion since 1317, and he did not win the Tournament. Both your Family and your House are due the recognition. If you don't win, you are no longer my brother._"

"Either Ravenclaw or Slytherin," Pansy said shrewdly.

"Definitely," Blaise agreed, "and with Harry in Slytherin he's much more likely to lean that way. No Gryffindor would make a threat like that. How old is he?"

"Eight," Harry answered. "He starts our seventh year, and Alex will be here the year before that."

"How many siblings do you have?" Ted questioned, with Tracey sitting very close to him. Harry couldn't see their hands and did not want to guess what they were up to under the table. He was quite pleased that he felt not one twinge of jealousy.

"Five," Harry answered. "The twins were born at the end of first year."

There was some light chuckling and Tracey grinned, "You'll be challenging the Weasleys soon."

Harry shook his head sadly, "Mum can't have any more kids. She'd like to, but..."

The rest of them sobered up immediately. As inbreeding had led to many pureblood families only being able to produce one child per marriage, many of those families had started to look down on others that had many children, privately envying them. They all knew, though, that if the wizarding world was going to survive, it was the families like the Weasleys and the Potters that were likely to last.

Every letter from his family wished him luck, and Harry's father assured him that there would be an Auror he knew well at every task, as part of the security force. It was some measure of comfort. If someone was actually trying to kill him he would at least have one more person watching his back.

Harry was tempted to wear his invisibility cloak to his first ever Hogwarts Hogsmeade trip, but his friends talked him out of it. Neville, Hermione, and Ginny joined them and they made an interesting group with their mixture of Slytherin and Gryffindor. They were unfortunate enough to see Rita Skeeter, but Draco charmed her and ran verbal circles around her. His father had certainly taught him well.

The strangest post he got in the days before the first task though had to be the note from Hagrid that told him to meet the half-giant at his house at midnight, to be wearing his father's cloak, and not to tell anyone.

When Harry returned to his room after that meeting his mind was racing. He was listing through every spell he knew, trying to figure out exactly how to survive this task. The rest of the students in his year were waiting for him in the boys' room, though Ted and Tracey had the curtains around his bed shut.

While Harry had not told anyone about the meeting, as per Hagrid's request, he had left the note where his friends could easily find it. After Greg tugged on the spread of Ted's bed and the two hidden students appeared, slightly flushed, Harry just said one word.

"Dragons."

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	39. Chapter 39

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

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It had taken a while for the fourth year Slytherins to calm Harry down, but once they did he got a determined look on his face. He assigned each of them a different area of research, trying to find a way to fight dragons.

Pansy brought up the fire breathing aspect of dragons and Harry had just winked at Draco and assured her that he was taking care of that. Draco had felt a heat blossoming inside his chest at that wink. He was the only one Harry had trusted with the knowledge of his talents. True, they were closer now than Harry was with any other Slytherins, but Harry had been friends with Blaise, Tracey, and Maya longer.

He didn't know why Harry had to be such a Gryffindor though. Harry thought he had slipped away from them, but Draco saw when he told Diggory about the dragons. So what if all the Champions knew? The less pretty boy Diggory knew, the better a chance Harry had.

Harry kept repeating that his only objective was to survive. Draco and the other Slytherins would shake their heads and return to their books. Even Greg and Vince were giving their input. Draco sucked in his pride and said not a word when they were joined by _six_ Gryffindors trying to help. Even he had to admit, though, that Granger was probably the best researcher in their year, and it turned out that despite their poor grades the twin Weasleys were no slouches either.

Word spread around Slytherin and every member of their House became a near expert on dragons. Harry was presented with dozens of spells to learn and at least fifty separate strategies. A few days before the task he nearly had a fit in the common room and told everyone there that if they inundated him any further he wouldn't have time to learn any of it before the task. The help then shifted from research to helping him with spell practice and strategy.

The day of the task came and Draco found himself practically shaking with nerves himself. Depending on what the Champions had to do with the dragons – Harry had not heard that much – Harry had a plan ready. Draco didn't know why he was so nervous himself. On top of everything Harry had learned in the past week alone, he was able to make fire obey his will. A dragon would be hard pressed to hurt him, with fire being their main weapon.

Harry didn't know, and if Draco had his way he never would know, but part of the reason Slytherin had been burying Harry in dragon information quickly enough to make his head spin was to keep him distracted. The other Houses of the school were approaching downright hostile as the task neared. Draco had heard more than one group of students claiming that Harry had been seduced by the other Slytherins, some suggested it literally, and had used dark magic to get past the Goblet.

Slytherin as a whole had decided that Harry didn't need to deal with that kind of pressure. He already had enough to worry about. So they kept him from seeing the glares sent his way and hearing the rumors. Draco had even swallowed his pride and explained the plan to Longbottom, who in turn had filled in the group of Gryffindors that supported Harry. Apparently there were more than just the six that were Harry's friends. The whole quidditch team was following the twins' lead, along with several other sixth and seventh year Gryffindors.

"Good morning and welcome!" Ludo Bagman's voice boomed over the crowd.

It was just before dinner time, and the students had been informed that the meal would be served in their common rooms after the task. Draco did not show he was nervous. Tracey and Pansy were chatting excitedly, while Millicent continually tried to keep Maya's cat away from her, as she hated cats with a passion.

Greg and Vince sat directly behind Draco, glowering at anyone other than the Slytherins who tried to sit anywhere near them. Ted was on one side of Draco, and Blaise on the other. Other members of the quidditch team were in front of Draco, and the Slytherin prefects were at the edges of the Slytherin group.

Diggory was up first, and he almost immediately transfigured a rock into a dog. The dragon chased after it, and Diggory dashed for the golden egg. He grabbed it and rolled, just as the dragon changed its mind and ignored the dog. It let out a long jet of flame, just catching Diggory as he got away. Draco contained the sympathetic wince that most of the audience exhibited.

The judges all thought before sending up their scores, each giving marks out of ten that were tallied up for the final score out of fifty. Diggory earned a thirty-eight.

The girl from Beauxbatons was up next, Fleur Delacour.

"Ooh," Belinda Whittaker, seventh year, whispered a few seats to Draco's left, "that's a tough spell to get right."

He watched carefully and saw she was attempting to put the dragon into something like a trance. It was working, and she had the egg, and then the dragon shook its head and sent a flame at her. Fleur calmly extinguished the fire on her skirt with a jet of water from her wand and returned to the staging area.

She was awarded thirty-nine points.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats to see what Victor Krum was going to do. While it was exciting, as the Conjunctivitis Spell made the dragon angry and it started tramping around, smashing the eggs, the famous seeker lost points as the eggs were supposed to remain intact.

The dragon handlers had a difficult time subduing the dragon, and Draco thought he saw a redhead among them. There were Weasleys _everywhere_.

Krum was awarded forty points, and it was time for the last Champion.

Harry looked incredibly small as he walked out of the tent and looked up at the Hungarian Horntail. There were at least six strategies that involved just getting past a dragon, or getting something from a dragon, but Draco couldn't remember any of them... and if he couldn't, how could Harry as he actually faced the dragon?

Then Harry held out his wand and in a clear voice he shouted, _Accio Firebolt!_

It took a few minutes, but Harry's broom smacked into his outstretched palm and he had mounted it almost before anyone was aware he had it. It had been a long time since Draco had actually watched Harry fly. For the past few years he had been busy doing his own job as a Chaser, and he hadn't actually seen Harry on the Firebolt.

It was amazing. Harry was like a blur as he teased the dragon. The commentary from Bagman was background noise as Draco, on the edge of his seat like everyone else, watched Harry. The dragon breathed out a huge flame, which parted around Harry, not even singeing him or his broom. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Despite what he knew, Draco could swear his heart almost stopped.

Harry went higher, and higher, and the dragon watched, then eventually spread her wings and lifted off the ground. Harry led her away from her eggs, then dove, heading to the ground at an almost ninety degree angle. Draco was tempted to search for Krum's reaction. This dive was faster and steeper than the legendary Wronski Feint.

Then Harry pulled up, his toes skimming the ground, and he scooped up the golden egg, flying up and holding it high in the air like a larger than normal snitch. The cheers were wild, and Draco heard himself yelling along with the rest. The dragon came tearing down, and in a parting shot managed to get Harry across the shoulder with one of the spikes on her tail. It didn't look too bad though, as Harry's grin was still stretched wide.

A tall man in Auror's robes, his skin as dark as untainted coffee and his head completely bald, swept Harry up in a hug when he landed next to him. The fourth year Slytherins began moving towards him, hoping to get to him before the crowd. The Auror set Harry down and ruffled his hair.

"I can't wait to show James and Sirius!" the Auror held a pair of omnioculars. "They're going to be furious they had to miss this. That was spectacular Harry."

"Thanks Kingsley," Harry was still grinning, as if nothing could wipe that smile off his face.

Draco felt himself starting to smile too. Harry's exhilaration was simply contagious. His fellow Slytherins began hugging Harry and congratulating him, and Draco did as well. He felt something like a shock down his spine when they hugged and he nearly froze. It was like Harry's magic had hugged him as well. Draco had never felt anything like it.

Longbottom, Granger, the younger Potter, and the youngest Weasley came running over. Harry's little sister practically tackled him, "I was so scared!"

"I'm fine Brie-Brie," Harry said quietly holding his sister and rocking. They were almost the same height, even though she was two years younger.

When Harry let go of his sister it was Longbottom's turn to hug him fiercely and Draco felt a stab of jealousy he did not want to examine further. They exchanged some sort of signal that Draco missed, and wondered at.

"Harry!" the redheaded dragon handler came over. "That was spectacular."

"Shh!" Pansy hissed at all of them. "They're giving his score."

They all quieted, and waited anxiously. Madame Maxime gave him an eight, then Crouch sent up a nine. Dumbledore looked to be thinking, before he also gave a nine. Bagman needed no time to shoot a sparkling ten into the air.

"Ten! I got hurt!" Harry protested.

Draco poked him, "Don't fight it."

Karkaroff looked at the other judges, thought for a moment, and awarded Harry a four.

"Four!" one of the Weasley twins appeared.

"Biased git..."

"...he gave Krum..."

"...a ten!"

Talking to those two was like watching a particularly fast game of one-on-one quidditch. Draco just shook his head. Of course Karkaroff was going to bring Harry's score down. He couldn't have a fourteen year old beating his star student by a large margin. The tie he settled for was bad enough.

"You're tied for first! You tied with Krum for first!" Granger and the Weaslette were jumping up and down and squealing.

"Bagman wants you in the tent with the others," the dragon handler said, "and Poppy needs to see that shoulder."

"Thanks Charlie," Harry responded. He grinned at all of them again before handing Draco his broom and running off.

Draco held onto the broom gladly and watched as Charlie, as Harry called him, greeted the other Weasleys there, confirming Draco's suspicion.

"Where's Ron?" Charlie asked the twins.

It was Weaslette that answered though. She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her, "That prat's turning into another Percy. He still insists that Harry did 'some dark thingy' to trick the Goblet."

The older Weasley shook his head, "Give him some time. He'll come around eventually. Ron's stubborn, but he's not as thick as Percy."

"Thank Merlin!" the twin's recited together.

It was an interesting glimpse into Weasley life, but it was over quickly. The dragon Weasley had to go back to work, and the crowd of students started heading back to the castle. The fourth year students waited for Harry, knowing that the rest of the House was preparing the common room for a huge victory party.

To most of them this was even better than winning quidditch. If Harry won the Tournament, Slytherin House would get international acclaim, their first positive attention in many years, since the reign of Grindelwald at least.

Harry left the tent with the other Champions, all of them still carrying their golden eggs. Krum was talking with Harry, and by the hand motions they were discussing quidditch yet again. The Heads of the three schools were all there to congratulate their Champions, and Draco saw how Dumbledore quite intentionally paid equal attention to his two Champions.

The cheers that greeted the group of fourth year students as they entered the common room were almost deafening. Someone draped a Slytherin banner around Harry's shoulders, and the golden egg was passed from hand to hand and examined carefully.

The door to the common room opened and Severus entered, his face as far from a sneer as it ever got in Draco's experience. He knew that his godfather was just as eager as any other Slytherin for a public redemption of the House. It was looking possible that Harry Potter might bring it about single-handedly.

Severus held his hands up and the room quieted instantly. He lowered them and looked directly at Harry, "Congratulations Harry. That was truly an impressive performance."

The room cheered again and Severus raised an eyebrow. They immediately fell silent, "I shall retire to my chambers shortly, and not reemerge until long past midnight. I bid all of you goodnight."

The door shut and several students whooped, "Official sanction for a party!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco and Draco smirked. Slytherin House parties were the stuff of legends, and they hadn't had a true party in years from what Draco heard. Dinner was consumed with decorum, and then the upper year students went to work.

A group was sent for more food from the kitchens and another group of students, all seventeen years old, to Hogsmeade to get a variety of libations. A sixth year girl brought down her wireless set and tuned it to a popular station.

The dancing and drinking just started things off. There was soon a cloud of smoke hovering above the students. It was a silent rule in Slytherin House that a student had to be in fifth year or above to smoke. There was another not-so-silent rule that Severus would severely punish any student caught smoking something other that the special herbal mixture he made himself.

According to Draco's father Severus had started this when he was a student. He had somehow come up with a blend of herbs that when smoked produced a relaxing sensation. It was also not addictive, and it was not harmful to the smoker's health in any way.

Severus could live on the proceeds of his own brand of smokes alone, especially if he opened sales up to the public. Only Slytherins or graduated Slytherins were able to obtain it though. It had a nice inside feel, and the Slytherins of each generation intended to keep it that way.

The seventh year students were careful to watch which students got a hold of alcoholic drinks. As it was often said, Slytherin House was a family. That meant that the older students watched out for the younger ones. A few fourth years were allowed to try a shot of whiskey, Harry in particular was encouraged after his success that day, but they were cut off at one, fifth years at two, and sixth years under seventeen at three. Seventh years were of age and allowed to do what they wanted so long as they didn't embarrass the House.

Draco watched as Harry tossed back a shot of fire whiskey, wondering if he would have the same reaction as everyone else.

Harry didn't cough, or splutter, or anything of the kind. Draco could almost swear his emerald eyes brightened for just a moment, like there was some internal flame shining through them.

A hand clapped Harry's back and the seventh year and sixth year boys applauded him for 'taking his liquor like a man'.

For once in his life, Draco was perfectly satisfied being in the shadows instead of the center of attention. He was enjoying watching Harry, despite his claim of despising attention, lapping up the praise like a kneazle with a fresh saucer of cream.

The only disturbance to the party came when one sixth year asked Harry about the next task. He explained about the clue being in the golden egg, and the sixth year opened the egg. An earsplitting wailing filled the common room until the girl had the good sense to shut the egg. Silence followed for a few moments, and Harry stashed the egg away in his trunk before coming down to join the party again.

They all danced until their feet hurt, the music so loud they had to shout to have conversations. Harry was an incredible dancer. He moved in a way that no one else did, like his body was a liquid responding to the music. Draco found he was not the only one who got lost staring at Harry for a time.

The only cloud over the evening was that Draco kept seeing in his mind the bright fire as it raced towards Harry, and the dread that maybe it was too much for him to control. He went to bed eventually, but found that after tossing several times he still couldn't sleep.

Draco opened his bed curtains and looked at the closed curtains next to him, staring at them as though he could see through them. He wondered what the boy on the other side was thinking. Had Harry been afraid when faced with the dragon, or was he as confident as he looked?

He felt something he had never felt before. He was actually scared for another person. His first year, Draco hadn't really thought anyone was after the stone. Second year, he was angry at Harry for leaving him behind and trying to fight the basilisk on his own. Third year he had just been scared beyond words that Lupin was going to kill him.

But that dragon... he had actually seen Harry in danger... Draco took in a deep breath. There was only one way to answer all his questions.

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	40. Chapter 40

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**Chapter Forty**

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Harry adjusted his position in his bed to try to make his shoulder comfortable. The treatment Madame Pomfrey gave him had almost entirely healed the gash from the Hungarian Horntail. It just ached, but unfortunately the ache was keeping him from falling asleep. That one shot of fire whiskey he had been given had helped, especially after the pain killer potion, but it was wearing off.

"Harry," Draco's whispered voice came through the thick fabric surrounding his bed, "you still up?"

"Yes," Harry sighed and opened the curtains, "can't sleep."

Draco crawled onto the bed with him, closed the curtains, and Harry propped himself up to sit against his headboard. Draco was dressed for bed as he always was, in long-sleeved satin pajamas. No one ever saw Draco in anything less than long sleeves and long trousers, not even the quidditch team.

Not for the first time, Harry felt this strong need to see what the other boy kept hidden. He controlled his attraction to his friend though, as he controlled every other emotion he ever felt. He seriously considered going to Snape for another duel the next day. Draco sat next to him, facing him, and reached out to touch his shoulder. The light touch sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"You okay?"

Harry nodded, "It's just uncomfortable now."

They were quiet for a few minutes that seemed to stretch out, and Harry wondered what was keeping Draco up. The other Slytherin usually had no trouble sleeping.

"You...," Draco looked away and Harry sat up a little straighter. Draco was acting entirely out of character and Harry wanted to know why. "You really scared me... today."

"Draco?" Harry's breath caught in his throat. Was that a tear he saw? Whatever was going on in Draco's mind must have been truly shattering if it made him drop all his defenses.

Draco took a deep breath, "I thought that dragon was going to kill you."

He needed to do something, comfort the other boy somehow. Harry turned Draco's face back towards him and wiped away the tear that had fallen, "Dumbledore wouldn't have let anything happen."

"I know, but...,"

Harry nodded. There had been a brief moment where he thought that the dragon would be faster than him, faster than anyone could stop it, but it was also the most exhilarating experience of his life. He noticed that his hand was still on Draco's cheek, but he didn't move it.

The cheek was cool against the palm of his hand, and Harry felt another shiver run down his spine. Draco's skin was even smoother than Harry had imagined. He froze in place, not sure what to do. Every breath, every heartbeat seemed louder than usual.

Draco shifted and they were sitting closer, close enough to feel each other's breath. That instant early in the year when their knees had touched came back to Harry, and he felt his breaths deepen.

Harry never knew which one of them leaned in, but the instant their lips brushed it didn't matter. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth to the tongue that was just barely touching his lips. The kiss was slow and careful. After only a brief few moments Draco pulled back and Harry opened his eyes again, letting his hand drop slowly from the cheek.

He had never seen anything like it. Draco's eyes were wide, looking a little frightened and excited all at once. His lips were parted slightly and glistened in the light of Harry's wand. The chest beneath the eggplant colored satin pajama top rose and fell in quick deep breaths.

Harry raised a hand to touch his lips, as if feel could somehow confirm what had just happened. He felt the edges of his mouth turn up in an involuntary smile and saw all the fear fade from the grayish blue eyes across from him. Their lids fluttered and then closed as the two mouths once again sought each other.

This time Harry was determined to make it last much longer. He gripped the back of Draco's head with both hands, pushing his fingers under the fine strands of blond hair. Draco's tongue almost immediately entered Harry's mouth, and Harry opened his mouth wider to allow it. Draco rose to his knees, pushing Harry back against his headboard as he moved closer.

Soft, cool hands sent shivers along his skin as they traced his sides and came to rest on his hips. Harry let one of his hands slide down the satin covered back and lift the top just enough to slip underneath and find the cool, smooth skin of Draco's back.

Harry's tongue followed Draco's out of his mouth and into the other. The other boy tasted just a bit like the toothpaste that he used, and then there was an underlying taste that could not be defined by anything in Harry's experience. It was a taste that was wholly Draco.

As they drew apart their hands remained in place, and they took the time to just look at each other. There was no hiding the erection that pushed up the thin sheet and blanket covering Harry's lap. It was maddening that he couldn't see if Draco had a similar response. The fall of his pajamas masked Harry's view.

Keeping eye contact the whole time, silently asking permission, Harry slowly began to unbutton the pajama top. There was a snore from one of the other occupants of the room, and the creaking of bed springs as someone turned in their sleep, but those background noises were ignored.

The skin being revealed was just as uniformly pale and smooth as all the other skin Harry had seen on the other Slytherin's body. Draco's chest rose and fell with deep, nervous breaths, almost in time with Harry's. When his hands reached the last button they brushed against hardness beneath that could only be one thing.

Draco's eyes seemed to darken. He drew in a long breath as Harry cautiously pressed his hand against the hard length. The differences between them were immediately apparent. Draco was just slightly thinner and longer than Harry, as he was in every respect. It was the first time Harry had ever touched an erection other than his own and his heart was pounding in his ears. His own excitement twitched and he saw Draco's eyes dart down as they caught the movement.

Harry moved his fingers to wrap around Draco, and felt his hips press forward into Harry's hand. Their eyes connected again and they leaned into another kiss as Harry's hand slipped inside the pajama pants. The blanket and sheet covering Harry's lap were tugged at and a cool hand wrapped around him. The kiss became more insistent, more sure as their hands moved up and down in a matching rhythm.

It didn't take long and Harry felt his hips jerk involuntarily and his whole body shudder. The rhythm of his hand on the blond increased. He gasped into Draco's mouth and heard a moan in response. Warm liquid spilled on his hand and they sat still, their foreheads touching as they both took deep breaths.

There was something about this encounter with Draco that cried out to Harry. He knew that he would never want more than Draco. Even their kisses had made that one time with Tracey pale in comparison.

With his clean hand Harry summoned his wand and cast cleaning spells on them. Draco slid his arms back into his pajama top and seemed to be hesitating.

"Stay?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco's response was to slip into the bed next to Harry. Harry shifted to lie on his uninjured side and Draco curled up behind him, an arm holding him around the waist.

"You're a human furnace," Draco commented sleepily as he snuggled up closer, "you realize that?"

Harry just chuckled. His parents had always been amazed that in the dead of winter Harry would sleep naked with only a thin blanket, if that much. He really preferred nothing at all. When he was a toddler he had always taken off his pajamas in his sleep, until his parents had just given up and not bothered to dress him for bed, and even stopped buying pajamas for him altogether.

A smile was fixed on Harry's face as he fell asleep, the pain in his shoulder almost entirely forgotten, replaced in his mind by the almost cold body pressed up against his. For the first time ever he actually wanted the coverings on his bed pulled over him.

He shot up into a sitting position, sweat beading on his forehead and his body slightly shaking. His head pounded and all he could remember was the blinding flash of green light.

"Harry?"

His wand was in his hand and pointed at the person who startled him almost before he realized it. He blinked, and then saw Draco propped up on one elbow next to him. Harry lowered his wand and ran a hand through his hair, trying to slow his breaths. He focused, like Remus had taught him before he was four, and forced himself to calm.

"Sorry," Harry said softly, "nightmare."

Harry wondered what Draco would have been like if he hadn't gotten sucked into all of Harry's adventures somehow. He doubted that the blond would react to this situation the way he was reacting. Draco pushed himself to sit next to Harry and wrapped his arms around him.

"Want to talk about it?" Draco asked softly, nuzzling the back of Harry's head.

Harry shook his head, "Nothing to talk about. All I ever remember is the green light from the killing curse."

"You still remember?" Draco was astonished. Harry could hear it in his voice.

Harry just shuddered. There were so many feelings that went along with that memory, things that he must have felt that night. There was fear, more fear than he had ever felt since, and there was pain, and sadness, but worst of all was the intoxicating rush of power.

He had felt that again, when he had almost burned Potter Manor to the ground and knew it came from using his elemental powers as it had touched him again to a lesser degree many times, but that night when he was still just an infant, it had been so much more.

Only one explanation for that existed... the flow of magic between himself and Voldemort as they were permanently connected by the scar that was etched into his forehead at that moment.

No one had comforted him after a nightmare since he was five... or maybe six. Harry couldn't remember exactly how old he was, but as soon as he learned silencing charms he had put up a permanent ward on his room in the Manor so he would stop waking his parents and siblings at night. Alex was still a baby and would wake up screaming whenever Harry did the same... until the silencing ward was cast. Then Harry's little brother and mother finally got to sleep through the night on a more regular basis. Ian could probably sleep through the apocalypse soundly with that small smile on his face.

Even that past summer, after the dementors, it had been Harry comforting Sirius rather than the other way around, as Harry had hid his troubled mind from his godfather every night except that first one when they slept by the fire.

"Will you be able to sleep?" Draco asked in a voice heavy with drowsiness.

Harry nestled into the body behind his, softly stroking the arms that were holding him close. Draco hummed in contentment behind him.

"Yeah," Harry responded, already feeling himself slipping away, "I'll... be... fine." His last word was interrupted by a large yawn, but he was too tired, too close to complete relaxation to say any more.

As always, Harry woke before anyone else in the room. They had shifted in their sleep and Harry was on his back with Draco using his chest for a pillow. Harry smiled and started carding his fingers through Draco's hair. He wondered if perhaps the fine blond strands were charmed to always fall perfectly into place when disturbed. It was the exact opposite of his. There was no force of nature or magic that could tame Potter hair.

A flush rose to Harry's cheeks as he thought of the activities of the previous night, and then embarrassment struck when he realized that Draco had witnessed the aftermath of one of Harry's nightmares. What did the blond think of him now?

Stubbornly, Harry ignored his insecurities and got out of bed carefully so as not to disturb Draco. He slipped on a pair of loose workout pants and did some limbering stretches to get his muscles loosened before he began his yoga routine. His shoulder in particular needed attention after its run-in with that dragon's tail.

An hour later Harry was fully awake, showered, dressed, and hungry. He climbed back onto his bed and looked down at Draco. He had rolled over to lie on his stomach and pulled a pillow under half his chest, hugging it close. His face was pressed between that pillow and the one supporting his head.

Harry nuzzled Draco's neck, "Time to wake up."

"Hmm?" Draco turned his head and blinked sleepily. "Harry? Am I dreaming?"

"If you are, then so am I," Harry laughed softly. "Breakfast starts in ten minutes."

Draco stretched like a cat and sat up, "How long have you been up?"

Harry shrugged, "About an hour, maybe a little more."

"You're insane," Draco commented and tried to pull Harry down to sleep some more. "Do you sleep more than five hours each night?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I get about six or seven hours a night, which is more than enough for me. Now get up."

"Are you going to do this every morning now?" Draco whined and buried his head in the pillows.

"So long as you sleep in my bed I will," Harry responded.

Harry slipped a hand under Draco's pajama top and gently kneaded his back. He smirked, even though Draco couldn't see it, and pulled up the top to kiss the small of Draco's back. Draco hummed and squirmed and Harry considered skipping breakfast but his stomach was growling at him. He licked Draco's side and his friend yelped and sat up again.

"Don't do that!"

"You're ticklish!" Harry laughed. "Why hasn't anyone figured this out before?"

"Because everyone that has, I threatened with painful curses to keep them silent," Draco glared.

Harry didn't stop laughing though. He was more than a match for Draco and they both knew it. Draco opted for the only sure way to stop the laughing and kissed Harry thoroughly.

There was a turnaround in the public opinion of the school concerning Harry Potter much like the one in Harry's second year. He was almost entirely unfazed by it though, for several reasons: he discovered that his fellow Slytherins had protected him from the brunt of the malice directed his way; he was still riding the high from both getting past the dragon and his newfound... something... with Draco; he now saw the majority of the students at Hogwarts as sheep, quite ready to follow the latest trend without bothering to find out Harry's side of any situation.

There was yet another Weasley and Malfoy altercation before Potions one morning not long before the Winter Holiday and Hermione got caught in the crossfire, much to the amusement of most of the Slytherins. Snape interrupted then and predictably took points from Gryffindor for fighting in the corridors. Harry would have been mad, but Draco preempting his scolding by quietly promising to apologize to Hermione.

Potions class was winding down and Harry and Draco were talking quietly over their completed potion. Snape had already checked it and determined they were successful, mostly through Draco's efforts. Their burn paste would have been put into containers for use it the infirmary, but it was needed when Neville accidentally knocked over his cauldron, then burned his hands trying to keep it from falling.

"Mr. Potter, stay after," Snape said lazily, not even looking up from his papers.

The students all left, with the exception of Draco, who stayed to listen. Snape just nodded to his godson before addressing Harry, "As you know the Yule Ball is a traditional part of the TriWizard Tournament. The Champions and their partners –"

"Partners?" Harry interrupted, with a quick side glance to Draco.

"Dance partners Potter," Snape leveled a glare at him. "You _do_ dance Potter?" Harry nodded and reminded himself that interrupting Snape was never a good idea. "The Champions and their partners open the Ball. You will have a suitable partner Potter, and you will represent Slytherin accordingly."

"Sir," Harry said with a bit of trepidation, "it's not the dancing... it's just..."

"Yes?" Snape snapped at him, growing irritated.

Draco stepped forward then and slipped his hand into Harry's. He gave his godfather a significant look and Snape closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm cursed," Snape said darkly. "You father would not approve Draco."

"That's why he won't know," Draco said, his chin high. Harry squeezed Draco's hand lightly.

"Find a suitable partner Potter," Snape stated firmly, "one that will not expect anything beyond some dancing." Harry nodded and both boys turned to leave the room. "Oh, and Potter?" Harry turned his head and Snape's eyes narrowed. "Don't even dream of hurting my godson."

Harry grinned at his professor and reluctantly let go of Draco's hand as they left the classroom. He also wiped the grin off his face and started thinking of which females at Hogwarts he would even consider going to the ball with. The list was very short, and most of them would see it as Harry asking them on an actual date.

"I'll take Pansy," Draco nudged Harry and Harry gave him a little smile. "She's like a sister, so she would never think it's more than that."

"That's perfect," Harry came to his own solution then. He looked around them, pushed Draco into a dark alcove and kissed him. "You're brilliant. Thank you."

Draco raised his eyebrows, but didn't protest the compliments.

"I've got to run," Harry said quietly, his hands clasped in Draco's, "I have to find Brie."

Understanding dawned in Draco's eyes and he nodded, kissing Harry again before he let go, "I couldn't think of a better partner for you."

Harry smirked, "That's because she's my sister, and she's twelve."

"Well I don't want some slut thinking she has a chance with you," Draco pouted.

Harry pressed their lips together one more time, "See you at dinner."

He ran off in search of the Weasley twins, knowing that finding them would make finding Brie simpler, and that the twins were generally easy to locate. Remus had owled the Map back to them over the summer, and Harry almost wished he had it instead. If he really needed it that badly though he could always borrow it, or make his own, if he could find the time and required spells.

The search proved unnecessary, as Harry bumped into Brie with several of her classmates before he found the twins, "Brie!"

Her friends looked reluctant to leave her and she gave them all a withering look, "He's my brother for Merlin's sake!" They scurried away and Harry raised just one eyebrow as he approached her, "Twits, all of them. Are you trying to look like Snape? 'Cause that's just disturbing."

Harry grinned and ruffled her hair, "Have fun scaring your friends away?"

She snorted, "Ginny and Hermione are loads better than them."

"On first impression I'd have to agree. Did they think I was going to attack or something?" Brie just rolled her eyes. "So, what do you think about the Ball?"

"It's not fair!" Brie pouted and crossed her arms. "Only fourth year and above is allowed to go!"

"How'd you like to go?" Harry leaned in and whispered to her.

"Really?" Brie lost the pout and smiled hopefully at him.

Harry nodded, "I'm kind of seeing someone, and I can't bring them, and I don't want to upset them by bringing some random girl."

Brie got even more excited and was approaching squeal. Harry could tell just by looking at her and braced himself. "Who? Tell me, tell me, tell me! Please?"

"Brat," Harry glared but it didn't faze her. "I'll tell you, but I have to tell Neville first. Anyway, it's still too new. I don't know what will happen."

"Oh fine," Brie relented and poked his chest, "but only because you're taking me to the Yule Ball. You're the bestest big brother ever!"

Brie threw her arms around him and squeezed him as tight as she could. Harry remarked to himself that he could get past a huge dragon, but his little sister could easily crush his ribs and make him suffocate.

He pried her off and ruffled her hair again. She took out her wand and threatened him, and Harry dashed off, Brie chasing him, both of them slowing at each corner or turn to make sure they didn't get caught running through the corridors.

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	41. Chapter 41

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**Chapter Forty-One**

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Draco slept in Harry's bed every night after that first encounter. They waited until the rest of their roommates were asleep and Draco would slip into Harry's bed. It was the only time during the day they could rely on for being together, just the two of them. They would mostly snuggle and kiss, or talk quietly. There was some more touching, but Draco seemed hesitant. In the morning, Harry would wake Draco after his yoga and shower, or sometimes just levitate the blonde into his own bed for Crabbe and Goyle to wake.

Harry had been shocked during one of their talks to discover that Draco had never even masturbated. He was even more sexually naive than Harry had thought.

"I told Neville about us," Harry said quietly just a few nights before Christmas.

Draco stiffened, "You did?"

Harry nodded and turned over to face Draco. He stroked the side of his face lightly, "He's my best friend, like my brother. We tell each other everything. He asked Hermione to the Ball."

"And?" Draco didn't look like he forgot what Harry did though.

"She said she was already going with someone, but wouldn't say who," Harry shrugged, "so he asked Ginny."

Draco chuckled, "The poor boy. She'll eat him for breakfast, and then want a side of meat after."

Harry pushed Draco lightly, "Nev's not that bad. You should duel him sometime. He just has a hard time remembering things."

They both sobered, with the memory of why Neville had difficulty with his memory. None of them ever brought up that Draco was closely related to three of the Death Eaters who were part of that attack.

"Do me a favor Harry?" Draco whispered with a sly smile. Harry felt a shiver down his spine and nodded. "Don't talk about Longbottom in bed."

Draco kissed him then, and Harry pressed against his body, feeling the other boy harden against him. They rubbed against each other, and Harry removed Draco's top. He kissed down from lips to neck to nipples, swirling his tongue around the hardening nubs and nipping lightly. Draco moaned, and his hands started roaming over Harry's skin, always more likely to imitate Harry's actions than initiate any.

He still did not let Harry remove his pajama pants. Harry didn't push, as he knew there was plenty of time to learn everything there was to know about Draco's body, but his hormones wanted more, more skin, more touching, more Draco.

Christmas was unlike any other Harry had ever experienced. He had stayed at Hogwarts for three out of four winter holidays so far, but never had there been quite so many people. The common room was festive... as festive as it could get without even a hint of red or gold – no Gryffindor colors would find their way into the Slytherin common room – so it was elegant, all silver and white, with sprays of greens.

Harry had already finished all his homework for the break, as he wanted plenty of time to work on that egg. The Slytherins had been researching various creatures that made wailing sounds, but there was a little feeling that told Harry they were working in the wrong direction. He didn't think he was going to have to get past another monster.

The friendliest Harry had ever seen the Slytherins and Gryffindors as a whole interact was the snowball fight held that day. After presents were opened and brunch eaten nearly the entire school emptied onto the grounds for a massive snow war. In groups, the girls left the fight hours before the beginning of the Ball to prepare.

Draco was one of the first boys to head inside to get ready, and Harry was in the last group to return through the massive double doors of the castle. Everyone he saw was rosy-cheeked and grinning. They stepped inside and rubbed their hands together furiously to warm them up. Harry himself had no need and had found it necessary to remind himself to wear gloves and a winter cloak.

He took a quick shower to wash off any clinging dirt from the snowball fight and returned to his room to get dressed. The only mirror in the room was being monopolized by Draco, who was fussing over his hair.

"Have you been playing with your hair this whole time?" Harry asked as he cast a drying spell for his own hair.

Draco gave him a withering look, "Some of us take pride in their appearance."

"I take pride in my appearance," Harry rolled his eyes. "I just don't obsess over it." He pulled out the stylized trousers that imitated muggle fashions from fifty years before and pulled them on to the interested eyes of his roommates.

"What in Merlin's name are you wearing?" Blaise asked him.

Harry slipped his arms into the loose fitted silk button-up shirt. He buttoned it and tucked it into the trousers, then fished around for the suspenders that completed this part of his outfit, "They're called trousers, and a shirt. What do you have on under your robe?"

"Nothing that fancy," Ted responded. "Who's going to see it?"

Blaise whispered into Ted's ear, and Ted turned bright red. Everyone else in the room laughed brightly.

"How many girls asked you to the Ball Harry?" Ted asked him to redirect the conversation.

"At last count, twenty-two," Harry sighed, "and three boys." He hadn't been able to get from class to class without some group of girls coming up to him and giggling. It was the most annoying thing... and Sirius had actually thrived on it.

"And you're bringing your little sister?" Blaise looked at him like he was insane.

His outer robe covered the slacks and shirt nicely, and was a jewel green that matched his eyes. Harry sat down on the floor to put on his soft shoes for dancing, remarking to himself that it was at least one thing his roommates were doing the same as him. As children from influential wizarding families they had to know how to dance, and all of them would have started lessons shortly after they started walking.

"Yes I am," Harry said shortly as he donned the cloak of a deeper green that completed his outfit. "If I brought any other girl in this school, the _Prophet_ would be all over it. Brie loves to dance, and she's too young to come otherwise, so I'm bringing her."

Blaise shook his head, and Goyle was the last one to be pulling on his shoes, "Mental."

The boys all descended to the common room together, where they had to wait another ten minutes for the girls. Pansy, in bright pink, hugged Draco and laced her arm through his, playing the part of doting girlfriend a little too well in Harry's mind. She winked at him and Harry raised his eyebrows at Draco, who just smirked. Harry would have been upset with Draco, but he had told Neville.

Tracey's robes were silver, and Ted greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Blaise had a date from the year below them, and the girl joined them as they all left for the entrance hall together. Greg and Vince didn't have dates and Harry was meeting Brie in the entrance hall.

His little sister was resplendent in robes that matched Harry's, but with the colors reversed, her cloak lighter than her robes. Her hair was in a high ponytail as befitted her age and she wore almost no makeup. The heeled dancing shoes she wore made her the same height as Harry. It was apparent to anyone that bothered to look that Harry and Brie were siblings, with their nearly identical hair and eyes, and only by looking further could anyone tell they were not twins. The only differences were the shape of their faces and their noses.

McGonagall was waving them over to stand with the other champions. Fleur had a dazed looking Roger Davies standing next to her, Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's Seeker, was with Cedric Diggory. All Harry could see of Krum's date was sleek brown hair pulled into a knot on the back of her head.

Harry kissed his sister's cheek, "You look lovely Brie-Brie."

For once she didn't object to his pet name for her and grinned, "I am so glad you invited me Harry-bear." Okay, so maybe she objected a little. Brie leaned in to whisper, "You still have to tell me who you couldn't bring."

Harry felt a wicked grin forming. The rest of the Slytherins were about to walk by. He whispered to his sister, "Blond hair, tailored black robes with silver embroidery, walking by us just about now."

Brie's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped, "Harry!"

"Harry?" Krum's date turned and Harry saw it was Hermione, her hair tamed for the first time in Harry's memory.

"Hermione?" Harry almost started laughing. Half the girls in the school were panting over Krum and he had asked _Hermione_, bookworm extraordinaire to the Ball. "You look beautiful."

Brie was grinning, and it was clear she had been in on the secret.

Draco's eyes widened as he took in Hermione's new appearance and Pansy looked almost green with jealousy, her complexion clashing with her pink robes. Weasel, who was not far behind them, walked by without even noticing Hermione was there, almost prompting laughter from Harry again.

The champions and their dates all proceeded into the great hall formally and to the head table where they sat with the staff and judges. Harry was confused though, that Percy Weasley was sitting next to him and Crouch was nowhere in sight. Hermione was next to Brie, with Krum on her other side. Next to Percy were Karkaroff, and then Dumbledore.

Conversation over the meal was highly amusing, what with Krum's attempts to pronounce Hermione's name correctly, Dumbledore's story about a secret room in the castle that had nothing but chamber pots and vanished before he could ever find it again, and Percy's attempts to ingratiate himself with anyone of higher status than himself.

Once the food had finally cleared away Dumbledore stood and introduced the Weird Sisters, and star singer Celestina Warbeck, who he had hired to play for the evening's dancing. She gave Harry and Brie a little wave before starting up the music. Celestina had been one of Sirius's few relationships that lasted more than a month, and she had easily passed the 'Harry test'. Being in the public eye herself, Celestina had known to treat to Harry like any other seven-year-old. Even after the relationship ended she had kept in touch with the Potters.

The Champions all stood and went to the dance floor with their dates. The first song played was a waltz, a simple dance just in case any of the Champions did not quite know what they were doing. Harry exchanged a look with Brie and they silently agreed to a straightforward dance, saving the fun moves for later.

Forty-five minutes and ten songs later they took a break to get some punch, and met Neville and Ginny at the refreshment table that had appeared when the dancing started.

"Thanks for the lessons," Neville smiled sheepishly. "I don't think Ginny's toes would have survived otherwise."

Harry nodded and grinned at his best friend. Neville had come to Harry in a near panic about a week before the Ball begging Harry to teach him to dance. The Longbottoms had not bothered with dance lessons for Neville, as he normally had two left feet and his parents had little patience. It had taken many hours, most of them on the one weekend they had before the Ball, but Harry and Brie had managed to teach Neville a few dances.

"Ready to ask Cele to get things moving?" Brie looked at Harry hopefully.

"Definitely," Harry held a hand out to his sister and she clasped it enthusiastically. They promised Neville and Ginny they would talk to them later and headed towards the small stage.

"How are my two favorite Hogwarts students?" Celestina, or Cele as the Potters called her, signaled a guitar solo and leaned down to hug Harry and Brie.

"Never better," Harry kissed her cheek. "Could you play something a bit faster?"

"Like old times?" Celestina was interested to see how far Harry and Brie had come with the dancing that she and Sirius had introduced to the Potter family.

Both Potters nodded eagerly and Celestina agreed. Harry brought Brie out to the dance floor and found an open space near some of the other Slytherins. They joined in for the end of the Fox Trot that was playing and clapped with the rest of the dancers when the song finished.

"Thank you everyone!" Celestina spoke to the crowd. "It's great to be back at Hogwarts. The band would like to thank Albus Dumbledore for thinking of us for this evening. I've had a request to pick things up a bit, and if you turn your attention to the center of the dance floor you'll get quite a show."

"I'm going to kill her," Brie muttered to Harry.

"She did date Sirius," Harry reminded his sister, though he was equally as irritated. They both glared at the singer who just smirked and winked.

Harry pulled his wand out of the holster strapped at his waist and banished his and Brie's robes and cloaks to their chairs at the head table. Underneath was the clothing appropriate for the quick paced dance that was about to start. Brie's skirt was full and ended just above her knees (she had dance pants underneath to preserve some modesty). Her blouse was short-sleeved and a simple off-white that matched Harry's silk shirt.

The music started up again, slowly at first, but Harry recognized the song and knew it would speed up after a few bars. There was no time to object to Celestina's decision to showcase the siblings' dancing.

Before long Harry forgot there was a crowd. He had no idea if people were watching him and Brie or if they were also dancing. Harry was too busy concentrating on his steps and making sure he didn't drop Brie on the floor. He tossed her up in the air more than once, wrapped her around his body, spun her, and dipped her. Their feet moved quickly, hips twisting and legs kicking.

It had been years since Sirius and Celestina had come home from a dance club one night and introduced the Potters to swing dancing. Having already learned the standard dances that almost all wizarding children learned, they took to swing easily. It shortly had become common practice for the family to put on some swing music at night in the practice room and dance for hours.

The first time Harry had used his control over the air currents to toss Brie a bit higher and make her float down a little more slowly than gravity would otherwise dictate their mother had scolded him thoroughly. She had eventually capitulated though, as Brie had come to no harm and begged to let Harry do it again. They had practiced and put that to use in the great hall.

The song ended and Harry had Brie dipped low, her legs straight and between his parted legs, her ponytail brushing the floor of the great hall, and one arm extended past her head, the other on Harry's shoulder.

Wild applause echoed through the hall and Harry helped Brie stand. He felt a flush coming to his cheeks as he saw that not another couple had been dancing for that song.

Luckily, Celestina started up another song, also swing, and the majority started dancing again, several couples attempting a few of the moves they had seen Harry and Brie using.

Silvery grey eyes stopped Harry from even thinking of dancing again, "Where in the name of Merlin did you two _learn_ that?"

"Celestina and Sirius taught us," Harry told Draco with a little grin. He liked surprising the blond. It always had amusing results. A flustered Draco never failed to entertain Harry.

The group of Slytherins around them all raised their eyebrows at Harry's casual mention of the famous singer that was at that moment performing for them.

"They dated, what was it, five years ago now?" Brie entered the conversation, her breath a little heavy from the energetic dance.

Harry nodded, "It was about that. They like to go to muggle clubs and picked it up there."

The mention of muggles brought a few sneers. Philip Avery, who was in his sixth year and was there with Maya, spoke for many of them, "That was _muggle_ dancing?"

Brie stood a little straighter and got the look on her face that tended to make Harry run for cover or cast a shield preemptively. He chuckled. Avery had no idea what he was in for.

She glared at him, "Yes, it was. Muggles have a long history of innovation in the arts and the vast majority of our music has its roots in muggle music. Beethoven, Mozart, Debussy, Chopin, Bizet, Basie Miller, Sachmo, Louis Armstrong, The Beetles, Metallica, all muggles. And that's just music. Art, theatre, photography, dance, literature – all our art forms are heavily influenced by the muggles."

Avery looked chastised, as he did not have an argument to counter Brie's assertions. Harry felt like snickering, but restrained himself. The sixth year Slytherin would not be happy that he had lost an argument with a second year Gryffindor girl.

Luckily Blaise stopped any further confrontation by asking Brie to dance. Harry nodded to Brie and she left to teach Blaise the basics of swing. Avery scowled and stalked off towards the drinks.

"I can see why she's a Gryffindor," Pansy said in a tone that almost indicated boredom, but her eyes were sparkling. They had all enjoyed seeing Avery shut down. He had a tendency towards being pompous.

Harry spent the night dancing. He lost count of the number of girls he had partnered with about halfway through the night. He danced with girls from each of the three schools there, and even some of the staff members.

Professor McGonagall was nimble footed and could do a decent Lindy Hop. It had taken Harry a minute or two to remember that she had been a Hogwarts student when the dance was newly popular.

The numbers in the hall began to thin out around ten in the evening, and Harry saw more than one couple headed outside and into the gardens where there were several private nooks. Snape also headed out that way and Harry almost pitied the couples that were about to be rousted by the Head of Slytherin, complete with deductions of points and awards of detention and mortal embarrassment.

"Time to head up I think," Harry said when he noticed Brie was starting to lose some steam.

She nodded and took his arm, and Harry walked her up to Gryffindor Tower after they said goodbye to Celestina and promised to pass on her greetings to the rest of the family.

He left Brie at the portrait that guarded Gryffindor and she gave him a quick hug, "Thank you so much for inviting me Harry."

"Thank you for coming," Harry replied sincerely. "I couldn't ask any other girl without inciting some fierce jealousy."

Brie's eyes sparkled at her newfound secret knowledge of Harry's love life, "And when are you planning on telling Mum and Dad?"

At that Harry grew quite uncomfortable. He had envisioned his parents' reactions several times, as well as his godfather's, and nothing he imagined was very pretty.

"I told you our relationship is still new. I don't know Brie," Harry then looked at his little sister sternly, "and they had better not find out from another source."

"Don't look at me," Brie held her hands up in defense. "I took care of the Parselmouth thing. I am _not _handling the fallout when this comes out."

Harry groaned at the double entendre, not knowing if his little sister intended it or not. After all, she was only twelve, but she _did_ grow up surrounded by Marauders. No one could be completely innocent coming from that household.

"Just promise me..."

Brie surprised Harry by hugging him tightly, "You just concentrate on the second task Harry. Mum and Dad have accepted a lot. They'll take this one too."

She released him and made a shooing motion with her hands so he wouldn't hear the password to the Gryffindor common room. Harry just rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

"Thanks Brie," Harry made sure to say quickly before starting down the insane number of stairs that separated the Gryffindor common room from the Slytherin common room.

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	42. Chapter 42

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**Chapter Forty-Two**

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Draco waited nervously in the Slytherin common room. Of course, no one knew he was waiting, or that he was nervous. It wouldn't do to let those emotions show, or admit that he experienced such emotions.

The Ball had officially ended well over an hour ago, though some couples had remained and danced longer. Of course, Harry and his sister had been one of those couples. Pansy had discreetly slipped away with a Beauxbatons boy once the majority of the students had their attention elsewhere.

It had left Draco at odds, wandering the corridors in his dress robes, slipping in and out of shadows to avoid curious eyes, and frequently peering into the great hall, his mouth going dry as he watched Harry dance, insane jealousy coursing through his veins. Of all the people to be jealous of, it was Harry's _sister_.

But she was the one dancing in his arms, a position that politics and prejudice denied Draco. He had gone and fallen for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and as a result life would never be easy. At least... he thought he had fallen. Draco wasn't exactly sure yet what his feelings were.

He knew that watching Harry dance made his blood race and his pants seem a bit restrictive. He knew that he trusted Harry more than he had ever trusted anyone before, his parents included, and would tell him anything. He knew that, though he absolutely hated for people to see his skin, all Harry had to do was look at him with those brilliant emerald eyes, and Draco's inhibitions and modesty flew out the window.

When Harry touched him Draco felt like his skin was on fire, and it had nothing to do with Harry's abilities. And that was another matter. Harry had trusted him with knowledge that could eliminate any goodwill the public had for Harry. If it slipped out that Harry could control not just one, but _three_ elements, then Harry would be ostracized and possibly persecuted.

Not at all accustomed to introspection, Draco frowned at the fire burning merrily in the grate. He was a Malfoy. He was not supposed to feel so uncertain or vulnerable. He was supposed to be in charge, be powerful... like his father. Unfortunately or not, when Draco was around Harry he felt nothing like his father, like a proper Malfoy.

The common room door opened, and Draco had positioned himself so he could see who was entering without it being obvious that he was looking for someone.

"Hey," Harry surveyed the room as he walked in and greeted the few people lounging on the leather couches.

The vast majority of the Slytherins were either asleep (whether in their own bed or someone else's) or still out. Curfew had been extended for the evening and Severus was not likely to punish any Slytherins he caught out... Gryffindors, on the other hand, would be wise to avoid the Potions Master.

Harry looked simply amazing. His robes and cloak were draped over one arm as he had never put them back on once he removed them for dancing. The silk shirt still floated around him as though not one bead of sweat had escaped his pores – the fabric probably charmed.

They made eye contact, and the distracted contemplation in Harry's eyes was not what Draco was expecting. He stood and walked over to his... boyfriend (just the thought sent a giddy shiver down his spine) and just raised an eyebrow.

"Not here," Harry led the way to their room, where the customary snores and rustlings of their sleeping roommates greeted them.

As always Harry was completely unconcerned with his surroundings and started stripping off his dancing clothes and neatly hanging them back in his wardrobe. Draco took a deep breath, checked the room carefully to see that all bedcurtains were fully closed and each of their roommates were asleep, before he started to change as well.

A flush rose up on his cheeks. Draco had never undressed in front of another person. Harry had removed Draco's pajama top many times now, but nothing more.

"Dray?" Harry's voice was soft and questioning, concerned even.

A little voice in his head said, _Malfoys don't have nicknames,_ and sounded remarkably like his father, but he ignored it. Draco just looked the other boy in the eye as he lowered his trousers, which left him standing only in boxers. He swallowed again, nervous _again_.

Draco was not prepared for the hunger he saw in Harry's eyes as the dark haired boy crossed the small space between them and pressed their lips together. He quickly lost himself in the sensation and any discomfort at being so _exposed_ vanished, at least until he heard a snort from Greg's bed.

They scrambled onto Harry's bed, not wanting to be found out just yet, and had the curtains closed just before they heard another pair open and footsteps cross the room towards the bathroom.

Kissing resumed, and Draco felt Harry's hands exploring all that visible skin, spreading a feverish heat through him. Draco's head tilted back as Harry's lips moved down to his neck, and he briefly wondered for what was probably the hundredth time, why Harry had stars charmed on his canopy.

All thoughts besides Harry, Harry's skin, Harry's mouth, his eyes, his hands, and other parts that Draco would probably never name aloud, fled his mind. Harry was holding his waist, and then his hands slipped lower, and they were pressed together.

Suddenly Draco desired full contact, all of his skin touching Harry's, and he lowered his hands to the waistband of his boxers.

"Are you sure?" Harry pulled back to ask, reading Draco's intentions with his movements.

Draco nodded, and Harry gently pushed Draco back until he was lying down on top of Harry's Hogwarts issued down filled comforter. Draco was thankful for the stars on the canopy then. They provided just enough light that he was able to see Harry's eyes as the Slytherin Champion took over, slowly sliding the boxers down his legs and off his feet, dropping them to the side.

No human had seen Draco naked for as long as he could remember, possibly since the day he was born. His parents had not changed his diapers. That task was left to the house elves. Harry's eyes, those gorgeous emerald eyes, were the first to see that much of the almost fully grown Draco.

Steeling himself, Draco lifted his eyes to lock onto Harry's. He feared what he would see there and was elated by the lack of disgust. There was desire there, and a myriad of emotions that Draco could not read.

"Beautiful," Harry told him as he stretched out above him, aligning their bodies perfectly, descending to press his heated darker skin against the pale, cool to the touch skin of the Malfoy heir.

He sucked in a breath at the contact, each nerve ending alight and tingling. Draco even found he was shaking just slightly, and Harry, ever the one who was bold when they were alone, stroked his cheek with the back of a hand, murmuring reassurances.

"So this," Draco put on a calm bravado, or at least attempted to – he knew that Harry saw right through him, "is sex."

Something flashed across Harry's face, maybe realization, maybe confusion. He had been moving his body against Draco's, Draco rising up to meet him, but he slowed the pace and let more of his weight rest on the pale blond.

"No one has ever talked to you about sex, have they?"

It was not a question Draco expected to hear. To say that he was naive in regards to sex would be mild. All his father had ever told him was not to get some girl pregnant, and if he did it better be some muggle because then they could 'take care of it' without repercussions. Embarrassed, Draco shook his head.

"You'll have to read the book Siri gave me, maybe a few of the magazines too," Harry's cheeks were steadily taking on a nice red shade. He leaned down to Draco's ear and whispered, "This is only the beginning Draco. There are so many more things we can do together."

The mystery and excitement, not to mention the hot tingling breath on his ear, went straight between his legs and Draco ached for release, that release he had first felt outside of dreams by Harry's hand. He could not hold in the groan that slipped past his traitorous lips, nor stop his hips from rising off the bed to press ever more firmly against Harry.

Luckily, Harry obliged and sped up the pace again, rocking their bodies together with abandon until they both cried out, tingles of magic racing across their skin, and a sticky mess shot onto both chests.

Draco was almost disgusted, or at least he thought he should be, when Harry swiped a finger in the white sticky substance and put the finger in his mouth. It was gross, and _messy_, but for some reason sent a wave of arousal through Draco that would have had him ready for more if he hadn't just been spent.

His eyes were round, he could feel it, and he was unable to protest as Harry kissed him, the taste bitter and tangy and salty and somehow appealing.

The kiss ended and Draco realized he had closed his eyes. Harry was carding a hand through his hair and looking down on him, "You really have no idea, do you?"

Draco just blinked, _no idea about what? Sex?_ He knew the basic idea. No one could live in a room with five other boys for almost four years and not know... but they had only ever talked about girls, and Draco certainly knew the differences. He and Pansy had compared when they were three years old.

"What were you thinking about, earlier?" Draco changed the subject, not wanting to admit that he really had no clue what sex between two males encompassed.

"Huh? Oh," Harry's eyes darted from side to side as if he was looking for what Draco was referring to. He shifted his weight so he was on his side next to Draco and used his wand to clean them both off. Draco snuggled up next to him, his body seeking the heat that always emanated from Harry. "I bumped into Cedric on my way back from Gryffindor and dropping off Brie."

"Yes?" Draco prompted, irritated at Harry drawing out his answer. Anywhere outside the bed, or more specifically outside the activities that normally took place on the bed, Draco was the forceful one.

"He told me to take my egg for a bath," Harry was clearly mystified about this advice, "and he even gave me the password for the prefects' bath."

Draco sat up quickly at that revelation, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Harry clearly did not grasp the magnitude of what was going on. Cedric, loyal Hufflepuff that he was, had clearly figured out the egg and was giving Harry the same help that Harry had given him for the first task. Not only that, but no one except prefects _ever_ got the password to the prefects' bathroom. They were honor bound as Slytherins to make use of the knowledge.

After some prodding from Draco, Harry put on his yoga pants, but refused to dress further, and Draco got on his pajamas, dressing gown, and slippers, and they both got under Harry's invisibility cloak and headed for the prefects' bath.

"Just around here," Harry whispered to Draco, making him shiver all over. "It's the statue of Boris the Bewildered."

Harry spoke the password, _pine fresh_, and they entered.

It was the most luxurious, extravagant bathroom that Draco had ever seen. He instantly wondered if his father had been lying about being a prefect when he was a Hogwarts student, because Malfoy Manor had nothing like this. Of course, Draco realized, he had never seen his parents' private bathroom.

Harry had already moved forward and was eagerly testing out the various taps, finding the variety of bubbles and scents that flowed from each. Before long the bath was filled, quite remarkable as it was large enough to fit every Slytherin of their year with room for more, and Harry turned back to him.

Draco had not left his spot just inside the doorway. He was taking in everything – the solid gold fixtures, marble floor, stained glass, and tiled mosaics of mermaids.

Then he saw Harry just standing and looking at him. He didn't know what Harry was thinking, couldn't tell just by looking in those brilliant eyes, but he felt that despite all his clothes he was naked, and for the first time in his life the thought did not bother or embarrass him at all.

He returned Harry's gaze and knew that whatever was happening between them, it was more than just attraction. What Tracey and Ted were doing, what Draco's parents had, it all paled in comparison to what Draco felt between him and Harry.

Harry held up his egg then, and smiled, tilting his head towards the water, "I'll take it in then. Don't worry if I'm under for awhile. I'll be fine."

Draco wondered what Harry meant, but didn't have a chance to say anything. Harry had stripped off his pants in one fluid motion and slipped into the water. He grinned at Draco and then his head disappeared under the bubbles, without even taking a lungful of air.

Draco looked around and found a pile of white fluffy towels against a wall. He pulled several over to the edge of the water and sat down, invisibility cloak folded and sitting neatly behind him, protected from accidental splashing.

"What are you doing here?" a strange _female_ voice asked.

His heart was beating quickly at the unexpected interruption. A ghost girl floated down from the ceiling and Draco breathed a little easier, "Myrtle, right?"

"You're not a prefect," the girl pouted and floated further down to rest beside him.

He raised his eyebrows, "I clearly have the password. Besides which, you should not be here. This is the _boys'_ prefect bathroom."

"You've been in my bathroom," Myrtle smirked at Draco.

Her patch on her robes signified she was a Hufflepuff and Draco was nearly outraged at being outdone by a 'Puffer', but then she was a ghost and had been in the school for well over fifty years.

There was no chance for him to think up a suitable comeback, as Harry surfaced and shook his head, flinging bubbles all around him. Luckily he was far enough away that none of them hit Draco.

"Got it," Harry held aloft his egg, grinning still, and swam to the edge of the bath closest to Draco. "Hello Myrtle."

"Hi Harry," Moaning Myrtle _simpered_.

Draco was tempted to give her a piece of his mind, but calmed when he saw the amusement on Harry's face. He was actually a bit embarrassed that he had been jealous of a _ghost_, for Merlin's sake.

"Myrtle," Harry tipped his head to the side and smiled this shy, adorable smile that made Draco's mouth go dry and heart speed up, "would you do a favor for me?"

Myrtle giggled and propped her head on her hands, "Anything Harry."

"Could you make sure that no one gets near this corridor?" Harry asked her quietly, leaning towards her and whispering. "I really don't want to get caught when we leave."

"Do you promise you'll visit me?" Myrtle pouted at Harry and Draco watched the whole interchange with growing amusement of his own.

Harry nodded, "Promise."

"Okay," Myrtle squealed and shot through the wall.

"Smooth Harry," Draco commented.

With a mild flush on his cheeks, Harry smiled at him, "I had to pick up _something_ from Sirius all these years. He's a hopeless flirt."

"Just watch who you put those skills to use with," Draco said warningly, leaning forward slightly.

He didn't know how Harry did it, but he _rose_ out of the water and pulled Draco down by the lapels to kiss him. Harry was warmth and wet and so assured and forceful in a way that made Draco's joints all go weak. He didn't care that his fine satin pajamas were getting bubble bath on them, or that the edge of his silk dressing gown had fallen into the bath. His world consisted solely of Harry at that moment.

The kiss ended all too soon and Harry put his egg down on one of the many white towels. He was grinning again and his eyes were sparkling.

"You should come in Dray," Harry said happily. "It's beautiful."

Harry proceeded to roll backwards, moving in the water like a creature born to it, and Draco wondered just how much control Harry had over the element. Could he actually _breathe_ under there? He did stay under for far longer than Draco would have been able to.

Draco just shook his head though, when Harry came up again and looked at him entreatingly, "I can't swim."

"You can't –" Harry looked confused, as if swimming was like walking, something that pretty much everyone could do without even thinking.

"No," Draco said plainly.

Harry was under again, and quickly popped up right at the edge, resting his elbows on the tiled floor, "I can teach you."

"Not now," Draco held him off. "Myrtle is expecting us to leave soon."

That was successful at least, and Harry pushed himself out of the water, toweling off before putting his pants back on. He pulled Draco to his feet and finished drying them both with a few spells.

"What's the clue?" Draco question as they ducked under the invisibility cloak.

"Don't worry about it," Harry was full of energy. Draco could almost feel waves of excited magic pouring off the other boy's skin. "I just have to go into the lake and get something of mine that the mermaids are holding."

"That's all," Draco rolled his eyes. If he was the Champion he'd be petrified.

Harry was practically skipping though. They left the bathroom and Harry whispered a 'thank you' to Myrtle.

"I can't wait!" Harry whispered in Draco's ear excitedly as they negotiated the corridors back to Slytherin. "I've always wanted to explore the lake. We can just have the others looking into what lives in the lake, and different ways to breathe under the water. I'll need something to use to fool the judges."

"So you can breathe underwater?" Draco asked with not a little awe.

He felt more than saw Harry's head nodding, and asked no more questions as they entered the dungeons. Harry's hand found his and laced their fingers together. After giving the password to Slytherin House they entered the empty common room and headed up towards their room, still under the cloak.

Once there Harry kissed him again, hands roaming all over his silk and satin clad frame and mouth wandering along his jaw and neck. Draco let his hands map out the muscles of Harry's bare back. He felt a thrill from doing this in the middle of their room, under the cloak where no one could see them.

Almost as suddenly as Harry had started he stopped, giving Draco a few soft chaste kisses before removing the cloak. Harry twisted one finger in a lock of Draco's almost white blond hair, which was hanging around his face, clean from his earlier shower.

"I like it like this," Harry whispered before brushing their lips together once more.

Draco's head was swimming as Harry knelt by his trunk and put the cloak away, returning with a plain brown paper bag in his hands and handing it to Draco.

"You might want to start with the book," Harry said softly. "I think you'll want to be alone for it. Good night."

With that Harry took off his pants, put them away in his wardrobe, gave Draco one final kiss and climbed into his bed.

Draco was left standing alone and a bit confused. Though they did not spend every night in Harry's bed together, they had never started something like that and then slept in separate beds. Draco looked down at the bag. He could feel that there were a few books inside, or a book and some magazines, and his curiosity overwhelmed his confusion at Harry's departure.

In the sanctuary of his bed, the curtains closed and spelled Imperturbable, Draco emptied the contents of the bag and felt the blood rush to his cheeks. There, sitting right in front of him, was a book entitled _Safe Spells for Safe Sex_, and from what he could see of the covers the magazines were of a similar subject matter.

Forty minutes later Draco was still wide awake and extremely uncomfortable. He hadn't known that a man could do _that_ to another man, or that anyone would even want to, not to mention a few other things. The mere thought of touching someone _there_ or being touched _there_ was just... gross... and yet Draco found himself squirming, aroused despite himself. Just reading about it had excited him, and the image of Harry and him doing the things that the book talked about and depicted only sent all his blood rushing down quicker.

There was no way Draco would be able to sleep without some relief first. Still unable to take care of the situation himself Draco resolved to wake Harry and get some help with his problem.

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	43. Chapter 43

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**Chapter Forty-Three**

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Harry seemed to be the only person in the castle brimming with energy at the end of the winter holiday, though of course he did not show his high spirits. It wouldn't be very Slytherin of him to go bouncing down the corridors with a bright grin on his face.

As the recipient of the only way Harry managed to express his energy level, outside of a few duels with their Head of House, Draco was not complaining. The blond did appear to be a little more tired than usual but was not at all snippy or overly sensitive like he would normally be with a lack of sleep.

Eagerly anticipated the second task, Harry welcomed all the information his Housemates managed to uncover about what lived below the waters of the Hogwarts lake. He had always known the lake was very deep, could tell just by looking at it, but hadn't known it was deep enough to hold an entire mermaid city, still leaving room for the giant squid, grindylows, and a host of other magical aquatic creatures.

"Is it just me," Harry had pondered aloud in the library, not really directing his question at anyone in particular, "or do all these tasks seem to be creature oriented?"

Indeed, it was not until he had Care of Magical Creatures that a damper was put on Harry's mood. It was cold outside, normal for Scotland in January, and the students were all casting warming charms on their clothing as they trudged through the snow to Hagrid's cabin.

Only one student was thrilled with the weather. Harry took in a deep breath of the chilled air and blew out a great cloud, the moisture from his warm breath condensing instantly. He reluctantly had on his scarf, hat, and gloves. If he were to walk around in such cold temperatures without them questions would certainly arise.

"What the..."

Weasley's mouth was quickly covered by Hermione's hand before he could manage the profanity that most certainly would have followed.

"Ron!"

Snickers erupted from those wrapped in silver and green scarves. For once though, Harry had to agree with the Weasel. There was a plump woman standing outside Hagrid's cabin, by the paddock that had once held a group of hippogriffs. None of the Blast-Ended Screwts were in sight, much to the relief of every student present.

"Where is Hagrid?" Hermione asked the substitute professor politely.

The woman sniffed and frowned at Hermione, "Hagrid is indisposed." She would clearly speak no more on the subject. "My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank, and today we will be studying unicorns."

The lesson was much tamer than anything Hagrid had managed, with the exception of the flobberworms, but was just about as boring for the males in the class. Unicorns were certainly a sight to behold, but would only let girls approach them, and only innocent girls at that. There would be a lot of teasing in the dorms that night for the girls that managed to avoid direct contact with the unicorns.

Harry ate his lunch with a frown on his face, wondering where Hagrid was. The same topic was certainly being discussed at the Gryffindor table, even if most of the girls were still cooing over the unicorns. Harry did have to admit that they were beautiful creatures.

Not until breakfast the next morning did anyone discover why Hagrid was absent from his classes.

**DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE**

Rita Skeeter's article went on to reveal that Hagrid was indeed half-giant and to thoroughly criticize Dumbledore for trusting him and allowing him to teach. She had managed to get details on some of the creatures he had brought before his classes, even including some quotes from a few '_anonymous students, identities withheld to protect their underage status_'.

Chances were the students in question were fellow Slytherins, and they had requested anonymity more to protect them from Harry than anything else. His friendship with Hagrid was well known, and also covered in detail in the article, as was his temper with anyone who insulted those he cared about.

A week went by and Hagrid did not emerge. Having heard it from his parents, Harry could guess very well what Hagrid was probably doing, and it did not bode well for the large gentle man. Drinking himself into a stupor on school grounds would not ingratiate Hagrid to any of the parents, or the Board of Governors.

A much needed Hogsmeade weekend found Harry walking to the village with Draco and the other Slytherins of their year. He had agreed to meet Neville, Hermione, Brie, and Ginny, and the twins if they had time, in the Three Broomsticks for lunch. That unfortunately meant that Weasel would probably be with them, unless they could fob him off onto Finnegan and Thomas for awhile.

"Where to first?" Blaise questioned them.

"Gladrags!" Pansy voted eagerly, prompting the vast majority of her year mates to roll their eyes. The girl could spend endless hours shopping for clothing.

"We might as well get it over with," Draco said with a sigh that spoke of long suffering.

Pansy smacked his arm and Harry couldn't help but grin. The two of them did really act like siblings, which was no surprise. They were both only children and had been raised together.

"Besides," Pansy tossed her blond hair and put her nose in the air, "I doubt Harry has swim trunks with him and he needs something to wear for the Second Task."

Harry glared when he was brought into it. He didn't actually have any shopping to do, as he had a surplus of Christmas candy in his trunk and more than enough supplies for classes, so he was entirely unconcerned about how they spent the day.

"I have that covered," Harry said quickly, not wanting to be used to model every pair of trunks in the store. He knew how Pansy could get when someone else needed clothes. "I just have to owl home."

"But you can get new trunks," Pansy wheedled, batting her lashes. "Merlin knows what you have at home."

Harry just smirked at the girl, feeling mischievous, "Who said anything about me wearing trunks?"

"No!" Pansy gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. Draco had whipped his head around to stare at Harry and the girls had dissolved into giggles. "You wear one of those little things?"

"I'm not saying," Harry let his smirk grow wider.

Ted wrinkled his nose and Blaise just started laughing, while Draco looked a bit uncomfortable. Greg and Vince just gazed dumbly around at the other students and crowds on the streets and Harry gave the two of them some thought. He normally didn't pay them much mind, but there was no way they were _that_ stupid.

"Let's just go to Gladrags and get it over with," Millicent eventually interrupted the laughter and started walking towards the clothing store.

Pansy immediately dragged the other girls over to the formal robes, which was next to the girls' muggle clothing area. Harry took one of the many chairs by the windows for those who were dragged into the shop and had no wish to buy clothing. It was a good move on the store's part, making their reluctant customers less likely to drag the eager shoppers out.

Draco sat next to him and leaned over to talk quietly, "Just what do you plan to wear for the task?"

The rest of their roommates had wandered off to look at robes or shoes. Draco and Harry were being careful not to reveal any change in their relationship in public, but they had been seen whispering together long before they began sharing a bed.

"You'll see," Harry replied, enjoying the chance to tease the blond.

Draco scowled, pouted, but nothing he did managed to get the information out of Harry. They sat and talked about their classes while their friends shopped. As a Champion, Harry did not have to take end-of-the-year exams, much to the jealousy of all his friends, with the sole exception of the Gryffindor Know-It-All. Hermione had already started studying and encouraging everyone else she had contact with to do the same.

They made it to the Three Broomsticks a full fifteen minutes later than Harry had planned on, and the first thing he noticed upon entering was a perfectly turned out Rita Skeeter, complete with acid green quill.

"Bollocks," Harry grumbled under his breath, wishing he could just turn around and head out, but Skeeter had already spotted him and a hungry look entered her eyes.

He turned to his fellow Slytherins, "I fully understand if you don't sit with me and will take no offence. Some of your parents wouldn't take it well if the _Prophet_ reported you having lunch with Hermione and a bunch of other Gryffs."

They nodded, and Harry was the only Slytherin to join the Gryffindor table. As predicted, Weasel was there, but the twins were absent. They were probably off with their friends or planning Merlin only knew what for their next prank.

"Sorry I'm late," Harry said as he sat down and signaled Rosmerta, "it takes wild hippogriffs to drag Pansy out of a clothing store."

Hermione rolled her eyes, having no use for typically girly pursuits, "How are you coming for the Second Task?"

"Fine," Harry waved it off. "I think it should prove easier than the First Task. After all, we know exactly what's coming this time."

"Can I quote you on that?" Rita Skeeter's voice came, her quill already writing at top speed. Her eyes flashed around the table to take in just who Harry's companions were. "Interesting company you keep Harry."

"I do not recall giving you permission to use my given name _Rita_," Harry gave her an icy glare, "and no I have no quotes or comments for you today. I enjoyed the morning shopping with my Housemates and I am having lunch with some other friends. I would prefer to eat in peace."

"I see," Rita completely ignored Harry's dismissal of her and summoned a chair to place at the end of their table. "Tell me Harry, how does it feel to learn that one of your friends betrayed you and kept his heritage a secret?"

"What makes you think he did?" Harry asked her, his face showing no obvious emotion. Rosmerta came to their table with their food then and Harry stood up, "I'm terribly sorry but I seem to have lost my appetite. It appears I cannot even eat without being hounded by the paparazzi."

Rita flushed as Rosmerta glared at her. Harry's friends stood with him, Hermione standing next to him. Rita gave her a predatory look.

"Harry's girlfriend, I presume Miss...?" Rita flashed her perfectly white teeth as she smiled.

Ginny started laughing while Weasel looked mildly ill. Neville was biting his lip to stop from joining the laughter. Hermione looked at the reporter as though she was a cockroach and frowned.

"Hermione Granger, and no I am not dating Harry," Hermione was getting into her lecture mode and Harry knew he might have to avert disaster soon, "you foul, loathsome, evil woman. Do you actually enjoy ruining others' lives? Hagrid never did anything to you."

Inwardly Harry groaned. He knew exactly where this was heading and his eyes darted around the room, seeking out assistance. Rita needed to be distracted and quickly. He found Draco's eyes and pleaded silently. His fellow Slytherin nodded and heads bowed at his table.

"Perhaps you'd like to give me your side to the story, hm?" Rita's quill was scratching out page after page and Harry did not even want to think about what she was getting out of the argument. "Tell me the inside story? The man behind the monster?"

"Draco, how could you!"

Pansy's shrill screech carried above all other sound in the tavern and every head turned towards the table of Slytherin's, even Rita's. Harry grinned and grabbed Hermione's arm, dragging her outside.

"Don't lock horns with Skeeter Hermione," Harry warned his friend. "I can guarantee that you're her next target now."

"But I...," Hermione tried to counter.

"I wanted to see Parkinson curse Malfoy!" Weasel interrupted as his sister was pushing him out of the tavern at wandpoint, Neville right behind them.

Harry snorted, "You'd have a long wait for that. That was a merely a distraction for our sake. I suggest we put it to good use."

Hermione looked from the tavern, to Harry, and back again, as if trying to figure out how the other Slytherins had gotten involved. She just shook her head and grabbed Harry's arm, leading him back towards the castle. Rather than arguing, Harry just submitted and went along with it. Outside in the snow with some of her friends, Brie ran over to join them as they entered the school grounds, upset that she wasn't old enough for Hogsmeade visits yet and that Harry wouldn't let her use his cloak to sneak along with them.

"Where are we going?" Ginny asked Hermione as she jogged to keep up.

"I've had enough," Hermione stamped her foot, but did not elaborate.

"They're not together, are they?" Weasel was asking Neville from behind them.

"No," Brie responded, "but only because Harry's been snogging wi–"

Harry pulled away from Hermione, grabbed his sister, and clamped a hand over her mouth, "Watch that loose tongue of yours little sister. You are seconds away from a most uncomfortable hex."

Ginny was snickering, and Neville wasn't faring much better. Hermione was just starting look even more irritated though.

"Are you seeing someone and you haven't told me?" Hermione demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Harry glared at his sister, who he released when she licked his palm, "Did you tell?"

"Only Ginny," Brie crossed her arms on her chest. "She's had a crush on you for years and I didn't want her to keep her hopes up."

"Brie!" Harry and Ginny scolded together. Brie just smirked at them both and skipped away, following the path towards the castle. Harry gave Ginny a testing look, as if to gauge her reaction. She just smiled and nodded.

Harry shrugged. There was nothing he could do now that Brie had already blabbed. At least she hadn't told their parents, or even worse, Sirius. Harry wasn't all too sure he wanted to hear Remus's reaction either, not after the fiasco of his third year.

Hermione, guessing that no answers were forthcoming, strode off after Brie and Harry followed, Ginny and Neville next to him, Weasel bringing up the rear. Hermione overtook Brie quickly, and was clearly trying to get some information out of the girl, but without luck. She led Brie off the path and towards Hagrid's hut, and Harry got an idea of her plans. It was about time too.

Pounding on the door with her fist, Hermione yelled at Hagrid, "Open this door Rubeus Hagrid! We don't care what that bitch wrote about you! We –" The door opened and Hermione flushed bright red. Harry almost broke down in hysterical laughter, and most of the others were laughing at Hermione's embarrassment. "Professor Dumbledore... I..."

"It is quite alright Miss Granger," Albus Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "I have gone temporarily deaf in one ear for a moment it seems." He turned back to the cabin, where Hagrid was sitting at his table, slumped pathetically over a mug. "It appears, Hagrid, that these students still wish to be your friends."

He held the door open and they trooped inside. Dumbledore conjured up a tea service and they all took a cup politely.

"As I was saying Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal acceptance your wait will be long indeed," Dumbledore looked down at the slumped Hagrid over his half-moon spectacles. "I get howlers on a weekly basis, not to mention the reams of advice on how to better run this school."

The scattered remains of finished howlers were in evidence all around them, "They're callin' me a monster, sayin' I shoulda' been put down wi' me mother."

"And I have had scores of letters from parents and former students who remember you from their time here demanding in no uncertain terms that I reinstate you immediately." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he scored a point. He patted Hagrid on the shoulder, "I expect you at the head table for breakfast on Monday and teaching your classes that day."

Hagrid nodded weakly, and Dumbledore stepped out of the cabin, leaving Hagrid to the students.

"You can listen to the braying of hounds all day and go deaf without learning much," Harry quoted one of Remus's sayings. "You were fine before that article Hagrid, and you've let the opinions of people you don't even know affect you. They don't know you Hagrid."

Neville nodded, "They're not worth it Hagrid. Do you know how much hate mail Harry gets?"

The other Gryffindors looked at Harry in interest and Hagrid's head finally rose. The half-giant looked at Harry with bloodshot eyes and Harry sat down across from him.

"This is nothing Hagrid," Harry waved his hand to indicate the expired howlers. "This is just from the nuts and kooks who send howlers every day. If they _really_ hated you, you wouldn't be able to see across the room for the thickness of howlers yelling at you."

Hagris smiled wanly, thankfully at them, and proceeded to ask them how their Care of Magical Creatures classes had gone in his absence. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Hagrid, drinking tea, and turning down a variety of examples of Hagrid's culinary experiments. They did want to keep their teeth after all.

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	44. Chapter 44

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**Chapter Forty-Four**

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The fourth year Care of Magical Creatures classes were gloomily anticipating a return to Blast-Ended Skrewts, or some other creature even more deadly and without apparent value.

Much to their surprise, when they approached Hagrid's house, they saw him standing proudly outside his paddock, within which were a full dozen golden unicorn colts and fillies. They were prancing around and tossing their manes, much less refined and dignified than their adult counterparts.

It was a lesson that everyone enjoyed, as the younger unicorns were less wary of boys, allowing the entire class to approach them and pet them while Hagrid listed off facts about unicorns, how to attract them, and how to care for a unicorn if you find one injured.

"That was the best class with Hagrid we have ever had!" Hermione gushed as they all returned to the castle. Oddly, to the rest of the school, Hermione and Neville were walking alongside the Slytherins. Hermione had been talking to Harry earlier, and in her ebullience hadn't noticed the usual separation of the Houses.

Most of the Slytherins were just looking at her with some level of amusement, wondering when she would realize that the rest of her House was headed to a different lesson than the Slytherins.

It finally took Neville tugging on her sleeve in the entrance hall and pointing up the stairs towards Charms, while the Slytherins headed towards another staircase and Transfiguration, for Hermione to flush with embarrassment and mutter a restrained 'goodbye' to Harry.

Harry's good mood did not change at all as classes ended for the day, or as he sat down to eat. The odd appearance of his father's owl during dinner did not even alter his positive mood. He had done nothing that he knew of to incur his father's ire, and Brie swore she hadn't told about Draco.

A medium sized package was delivered to him and the owl, Felix, flew back towards Potter Manor without even waiting to beg a morsel from the table.

"What is it?" Draco asked and leaned in to see.

Just as perplexed as his friends, Harry opened the letter tucked into the twine that held the package closed.

_Harry,_

_Rowan and Ryan told me to send this to you. Knowing that you might want it, I complied. Did they even know you own it?_

_Please be careful._

_Dad_

Harry blinked and lifted the edge of the brown paper wrapping. He fought back the surprise that wanted to surface at seeing his wetsuit nicely folded and wrapped up for him. Doing the quick math in his head, he figured the twins were only about four months shy of their third birthday.

"Sweet Mother of..." Harry let his sentence die off. He thought back and couldn't remember a single instance that either of the twins would have seen his wetsuit. He never wore it in the summer, so even if they had overheard the adults in the house talking about the Task there was no way they could have know to tell their dad to send the suit. It was as if they knew he was planning to write home that night about it.

"Harry?" Draco looked at him with mild concern.

Harry shook his head, a small action that wouldn't be noticed across the room, "Not now and certainly not here. I have to run this back to our room."

With that Harry quickly stood and made his way out of the great hall, only to be intercepted by the set of twins not on his mind. Fred and George each took an arm and steered him towards an empty classroom.

"What is it?" Harry asked, a little testy. He was not in the mood for a prank.

The two older boys exchanged a wary glance.

"We just wanted to tell you..."

"...what we saw last night." Fred finished for George.

"We were taking a little stroll..."

"...and we had the map of course..."

"...when we saw something strange."

"Should Crouch be..."

"...in the castle?"

Harry stared at them, praying that his own younger siblings did not develop the same tendency to speak back and forth like Fred and George did. He could only take one pair of people doing that.

"No," Harry shook his head. "There's no Tournament business I know of until the Second Task, and that's a full week away. Besides, didn't Ginny say he wasn't feeling well and was working from home, sending owls in to Percy?"

Simultaneously Fred and George nodded, a dark look shared on their faces, "That's what Percy wrote to us."

"Do me a favor, and keep an eye on the map when you can, okay?" Harry asked his friends. "We still don't know who put my name in for this thing."

"Anything Harry," Fred told him, a hand on his left shoulder.

George's hand mirrored Fred's, "We'll let you know if we see anything odd."

Harry thanked them and left for the dungeons, lost in his own thoughts, but still wary of his surroundings. He had learned his lesson second year, and would not let his guard down when in the corridors of the school, no matter how safe it was purported to be.

The week passed quickly. Moody held Harry after class and questioned him on his progress for the Second Task. Carefully, Harry evaded giving the retired Auror direct answers. The man was not among those who knew of Harry's talents, and with the way he had been acting Harry was determined to keep it that way.

Neville gave Harry the perfect way to trick the judges and crowd into thinking he was using some magical means, other than his peculiar talents, to breathe underwater. After a late night stress relief duel with Snape, which his Head of House barely won, the Potions Professor grudgingly loaned Harry a handful of gillyweed, with the promise that Harry would either return it or replace it.

The morning of the Second Task dawned and Harry, as usual, was awake before any of his roommates. He pulled on his wetsuit, which fit him like a second skin. It was black, with lime green panels that ran up the outside of each leg, the sides of his torso, and under his arms to his wrists. Small strips of lime green showed where various pockets were located. Over the suit he put on a robe and tucked the flippers, shrunken for ease of carry, into a pocket.

He got curious looks from his yearmates, as he had been so mysterious about his swimming costume for the Task. Harry looked around the hall as he calmly ate his breakfast. Next to him, Draco was much more nervous than he was, though no one else would know. Harry could feel that his fellow Slytherin was giving off more heat than usual.

There were several people missing from breakfast, and Harry assumed they were already outside for the Task. Krum was sitting with the seventh year Slytherins and Harry gave him a small smile when their eyes met. Krum nodded back, and they both finished their meals.

His roommates and the girls surrounded Harry as they walked outside, and Pansy's loud chatter detracted from Draco giving Harry's hand a quick squeeze. Harry smiled softly at him and separated from his friends to join Fleur and Cedric at the edge of the lake, Krum joining them immediately after.

Fleur and Cedric were both in their own worlds, stretching and fingering their wands. Both were wearing bathing suits, and Harry shrugged out of his robes, not missing the raised eyebrow from Cedric. He checked that his wand was secure in the special pocket on his thigh, and that his dagger was in its sheath on his other hip. He took the flippers out of his robes, resized them, and slipped them onto his feet.

Patting the small chest pocket, Harry assured that the gillyweed was there. He would fake eating some, just a small nibble at a time, as though he wanted to be careful about how long its effects lasted.

Bagman stepped up to them, gave Harry a perplexed look, which Harry pointedly ignored, before addressing the crowd, "At the bottom of the lake is the thing each Champion would miss the most if it was absent from their lives. They each have one hour to retrieve it and return here. Currently in first place we have a tie between Mr. Krum and Mr. Potter. In second place is Mr. Diggory, and Miss Delacour is in third. Contestants begin... now!"

Harry dove into the water, then slipped a hand to the pocket and to his mouth. Grinning, he kicked and headed down into the depths of the lake.

The Hogwarts Lake was nothing like the lake at Potter Manor. There, no magical creatures or plant life had been attracted to the lake, despite the high level of ambient magic in the vicinity. Harry's guess was that the wards on the property were responsible for that.

Harry saw Grindylows and swam clear of them, but still had to get rid of a few that were further from the main grouping. Luckily, their brittle fingers were easy to pry off, so long as there were only a few to deal with.

The rest of the Champions were nowhere in sight. Whatever path they had taken was different from Harry's. There was no real indication where the mermaids were, other than down, and if what the Slytherins had discovered about how they lived was correct, the entire bottom surface of the lake could be covered with their city. Whatever the mermaids had could be anywhere in that city.

Stretching out his sense of the water, Harry followed the heat he could detect in the depths of the lake. His guess was that the mermaids had a body temperature that varied with that of the lake, so whatever was creating that pocket of heat was foreign to the waters.

If asked Harry could not possibly explain to anyone how he managed to breathe under the water. That ability was as much a mystery to him as to everyone else. He only knew that he felt comfortable, safe, and serene under the water, something like flying, only less thrilling.

He kicked his legs, the flippers making him faster, and parted some plants with his arms, careful to check them for any dangerous magical properties, knife in hand to cut through any tangles. He spotted the dwellings of the mermaids then, made of woven branches and grasses, and tucked his knife away again. He did not want to appear hostile.

In the center of the lake, at the very bottom, there was a large carved statue. Harry had not studied mermaid culture in depth and could only speculate on the significance. The abstracted figure could have been a god or an important mermaid or merman.

What was more important than the statue, was the four figures around it, floating, their legs tied to heavy stones that kept them anchored. Three of the four Harry readily identified as Neville, Cho Chang, and Hermione, and the fourth resembled Fleur so much that he was sure it was her younger sister.

Harry felt a moment of panic, wondering what on earth the Headmaster had been thinking, using Neville for something like this. Then Harry considered that Dumbledore might not have known, and might not have consulted Poppy first, assuming there would be no glitches with whatever spell kept the hostages from drowning.

Something brushed his legs, and Harry saw Cedric, his head incased in the Bubblehead Charm. Cedric motioned to the hostages, and then up to the surface, tapping his wrist. Harry nodded. They didn't have much time left in their allowed hour.

Cedric used a cutting spell to free Cho, and started swimming back. Not wanting to risk anything, Harry pulled his dagger out and began sawing at the cord holding Neville at the base of the lake. Any spell he used could interact with the spells on Neville.

He put his arm around his friend's torso and began bringing him up to the surface, kicking as quickly as he could and even manipulating the water a bit to make them move faster. Unlike Cedric, Harry headed straight up, unconcerned that he was going to have to swim further. His only consideration at that point was to get Neville above the water.

The surge of magic hit them when they had traveled less than halfway up, and Neville's eyes opened suddenly. He immediately began flailing, fighting against whatever had him trapped, until Harry turned his face to see him there.

Water was already beginning to invade Neville's lungs, and Harry didn't dare feed him any Gillyweed, not with his magic spiking. He concentrated on the water around them and it shot them towards the surface.

They broke the surface of the water with a great splash, and Harry instantly had his wand drawn and pointed at the water, casting a propeller spell to get them to the shore even faster than Harry could swim.

Just before they reached the edge he saw Madame Pomfrey wrapping blankets around Cedric and Cho, who had been revived from her enchanted sleep, and giving them potions to take. From the steam shooting out of their ears, Harry guessed it was Pepper-Up.

Neville was unresponsive, and he was a limp weight in Harry's arm. They hit the edge of the lake forcefully, knocking the breath of Harry, and arms reached to help them onto the grass.

"He should have woken the instant you broke the surface," Dumbledore was saying quietly. The Headmaster proceeded to brandish his wand, preparing to cast the spell to wake Neville.

"No!" Harry covered Neville's body with his own, taking the spell intended for his friend. The Ennervate was like a jolt of electricity to someone who was conscious, but luckily Harry's constant shields absorbed the majority of the spell.

"Headmaster, no!" Madame Pomfrey fought through the crowd and knelt beside Harry and Neville. She turned to Harry, "He had a surge?"

Harry nodded, "We were still near the bottom."

"You do compressions, I'll breathe," Poppy instructed Harry, rolling Neville onto his back.

Harry laced his fingers together and pressed his palms on Neville's chest, kneeling to get the best leverage, and pushed down five times, then waited for Poppy to breathe into Neville's mouth before repeating the process.

He heard hysterical crying somewhere, and vaguely registered that it was Fleur, who was begging in her native language to be allowed back in to get her sister. Closer, Krum and Hermione surfaced, and Professor McGonagall got them blankets and Pepper-Up Potion.

Coughs came from Neville then, and water dribbled out of his mouth. Poppy turned him on his side and Harry rubbed his back as his stomach emptied onto the grass.

"I need to take him to the Infirmary," Poppy told Harry quietly. "As a Champion you have to stay for the scoring, and then you can come see him."

"Screw the Tournament. I didn't want to enter anyway," Harry argued, fully aware that the entire school was watching them. He was too angry to care.

Poppy glared, and Harry quickly sobered, "You are in a binding magical contract young man, and you _will_ follow it!"

"Yes Poppy," Harry nodded. He gave Neville's hand a quick squeeze as Poppy loaded him onto a conjured stretcher and floated him away to the hospital wing.

Nearly everyone was staring at him, but Harry ignored them. He was well accustomed to stares. He looked up at the Headmaster and stood, certain that the man was bewildered even if he wasn't showing it.

"The surge broke your spell," Harry explained plainly. "His magic was too unstable for any to be used on him."

"The Cruciatus?" Dumbledore questioned, and Harry only answered him with a short nod.

Fleur, however, was still crying and near hysterics, and Harry could only make out a few words along with the name Gabrielle. She was clearly worried that something similar would happen to her sister. Harry gave the headmaster a questioning look, received an indulgent smile in response, shrugged, and dove back into the water.

The mermaids were at the bottom around Fleur's little sister, and grouped tightly around her when Harry arrived, clearly telling him that she was not his hostage, and so not his to bring back.

Harry focused on the water and moved so he stood on the bottom of the lake, something that should be impossible without a weight belt. The mermaids instantly began chattering and several swam over to him to inspect him. Harry made the water swirl around him, pushing them away, and walked calmly towards the anchor holding the young girl in place.

He rose slowly to her side, held one of her hands in his, and cut the cord with his dagger again. The mermaids backed away from him, and parted to let him through.

The girl woke when they surfaced, and looked around, confused at seeing Harry there, her eyes widening at the sight of his scar.

Fleur met them at the edge of the water, unconcerned that her blanket was getting waterlogged. She pulled her sister out and kissed both her cheeks, hugging her and examining her for any injury. Much to Harry's shock she then did the same with him.

"Oh thank you 'Arry!" Fleur exclaimed. "You did not 'ave to go after 'er, and you did anyway, even zo she was not your 'ostage."

Harry gave the crowd more attention then, and saw that Sirius was there, grinning broadly at him, with Brie at his side. Her eyes looked reddened, and Harry knew that this time it was concern for Neville, not Harry, but she was smiling by then.

It was when he found the Slytherins from his year that Harry felt a lump forming in his throat and a pain developing in his chest. Draco was scowling, his eyes narrowed. It might have been because Fleur kissed him, but Harry was sure there was more to it.

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	45. Chapter 45

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**Chapter Forty-Five**

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Harry barely paid attention to the judging. He was aware enough to see that Percy was there in Crouch's place, which was odd in itself. He would have thought that someone more senior would fill in for the Tournament.

Not at all surprised that he and Cedric ended up tied for first place, Harry ran towards the school once the Champions were told they could go, details on the Third Task not to come until a later time. Brie, Ginny, and Hermione were on his heels as he raced to the hospital wing to see Neville. His fellow Slytherins could wait.

Brie was well aware of the problems Neville had with his magic and why, and the other two girls were bright enough to figure it out to some extent. Everyone who lived at Potter Manor or Longbottom Hall had to know not to cast magic of any kind on him after one of his magical surges. Harry was surprised that the Headmaster had not been informed though. Poppy was the one who had diagnosed the problem after all, though it had been the responsibility of Frank and Alice to inform the school.

Frequently, Harry found himself disapproving of how his friend's parents fulfilled their role as such.

"Poppy?" Harry called out the instant he opened the double doors that led into the hospital wing. "How is he?"

"I'm okay," Neville's voice was raspy, belying his statement, along with the cough that followed.

"Like hell you are," Harry scolded as he approached Neville's bed. The other boy looked paler than usual and his eyes were glistening. He ignored the chairs there for visitors and climbed onto the bed next to his sworn brother. Harry put his wrist to Neville's forehead, only to have his hand swatted away.

"You're warm," Harry stated and frowned. He knew that Poppy couldn't give Neville potions or use spells, so he cooled the air surrounding his friend and Neville visibly relaxed just a touch.

Each of the girls gave Neville a tight hug, which brought some color back to his cheeks. Brie settled onto the bed on the other side of Neville and Hermione and Ginny pulled chairs closer.

"We were really scared," Ginny told Neville, holding his hand firmly, which only prompted Neville to blush even more.

"Especially when Brie told us why Harry took that spell for you," Hermione had a hand on Neville's arm.

Neville's eyes immediately went to Harry, questioning, and Harry just brushed off his concern, "An _Ennervate_ Nev, no more. Dumbledore didn't know."

_Speak of the devil_. The muggle saying popped into Harry's head as the doors opened and Dumbledore and McGonagall entered. The Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress came straight over to Neville's bed and smiled at the scene they saw there.

"Twenty points to Slytherin Mr. Potter," McGonagall said with a little sigh, as if still wishing he was in Gryffindor.

"I am sorry, my dear boys, that I was unaware of this situation," Dumbledore's voice was pensive, his usual twinkle absent from the blue eyes.

Harry shook his head, "Not your fault sir." For once that was completely true.

Neville just hung his head, embarrassed at all the attention he was getting. Poppy came out then and shooed away all the students, declaring that Neville needed to get some sleep.

Outside the infirmary the four of them paused. Harry looked at the three girls and frowned, "Let me know what the rumors going around about this are, alright?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed immediately.

"I'll talk to the twins," Ginny offered, and Harry smiled then. Fred and George heard every rumor that circulated the castle, especially as they were often the ones to create them.

"Get going," Brie gave him a light shove. "You're probably missing one hell of a party."

Harry grinned, but he knew that wasn't all he was missing and the lump in his throat returned. Draco was angry with him. He could guess at many possible reasons, but speculating was just getting him nervous.

So Harry descended to his party in the Slytherin dungeons with a bit of dread, dragging his feet. He wasn't a Gryffindor, wasn't about to leap in front of a pissed off dragon. At the same time he recognized he didn't have much of a choice. Draco was not easily calmed, and honestly, Harry was surprised it had taken this long for a fight of some sort between them.

He spoke the most recent password, _calcium bicarbonate_, and entered. The music was already loud, and a roar of cheering greeted Harry. He grinned at his housemates, who were congratulating him on his performance, all the while his eyes searched the room for Draco. It wasn't until he found the fourth year girls that he made any sort of progress in resolving the problem with his boyfriend.

"He's upstairs and pissed as hell," Pansy whispered in his ear as she hugged him.

Harry nodded and grinned, not letting his apprehension show, "I've got to get changed."

He headed up the stairs towards his room and unzipped the front of his wetsuit in the process. Harry hadn't actually lied to Pansy. He did need to get out of the wetsuit and into some more appropriate clothing. His arms were out of the long sleeves and the top of the suit was hanging off his waist when he opened the door and walked into his room.

"Where have you been!" Draco demanded as he paused in pacing the room.

Harry took a moment to assess the situation. Draco's eyes were practically flashing with anger and he was taking controlled, deep breaths. Harry fought back the arousal at the site, knowing it wasn't exactly the time for that.

"The hospital wing," Harry responded honestly and in a measured, careful tone.

His words only seemed to enrage Draco further though.

"Longbottom," Draco spat as if he was talking about Ron Weasley, not Neville, who he had been getting along with much better for over a year. "Longbottom! Why Longbottom?"

"You're jealous of Neville?" Harry hadn't considered it a possibility really. He knew he could never, ever, not in the remotest of possibilities think of Neville that way. It would be worse than if he felt attracted to one of his sisters or brothers.

"He's the one you'd miss the most, isn't he?" Draco sounded vicious, but underneath that, and in his eyes, Harry saw the hurt and vulnerability.

"That's what's bothering you?" Harry suddenly understood and he softened, walking towards Draco, backing him against the wall. "Dumbledore chose the people who were hostages. He doesn't know about us."

"It would still be Longbottom though," Draco set his mouth in a hard line reminiscent of Snape and half-glared at Harry.

The only way Harry could make Draco understand was to explain everything, and Draco deserved to know, would need to know if they had a future of any sort together. Harry pulled his dagger and flipped it around so he was holding it by the blade. He presented the handle to Draco, who looked at it dismissively first, and then a little closer.

"That's not the Potter crest," Draco said curiously.

"It's the Longbottom crest," Harry told Draco, who looked at him pleadingly, as if begging him not to continue with, "and Nev has one with the Potter crest."

"But –"

Harry put the dagger on his bedside table and held his hand palm up, showing the scar that ran diagonally down from his forefinger, "He's my brother Draco, more so than Ian, or Alex, or Ryan can ever be, because he's my brother by choice, by the bond of our blood and our magic. That's why Dumbledore chose him, and not Brie or any of my other siblings, who he could have easily brought here from Potter Manor. He got Fleur's little sister from France."

Relief shined in Draco's eyes, "I'm sorry..."

Harry smoothed back Draco's hair and caressed his cheek, "Don't be. I'm honored that you were _that_ jealous of Nev."

Leaning in, Harry kissed Draco and felt hands weave into his hair and grasp the back of his head, pulling him in for a hard, passionate duel between tongues. One of the hands slipped down, ghosting over the flesh of his bare back and snuck into the wetsuit to be held tightly against his behind.

Harry pressed his renewed arousal against Draco and felt an answer in kind. He moaned into the other Slytherin's mouth and tugged at his hips, grinding them closer together.

He heard the door opening, cursed himself that he hadn't locked it or at least set a proximity charm, but it was too late for that.

"Eeep!"

Whoever had peeked in and caught them was gone by the time Harry turned his head, but several others had come to see the cause of the undignified squeak. Multiple smirks appeared as they all took one glance at Harry and Draco and figured out what had been interrupted.

"Now that you all know, do you mind?" Draco snapped at them, not removing his hand from Harry's backside.

Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling. He pulled out his wand and slammed the door in all those faces, locking it securely that time and putting up an Imperturbable Charm for good measure.

"Now where were we?" Harry questioned Draco, not bothering to wait for an answer as he leaned in and claimed the parted lips.

It took much longer than anticipated, but Harry did eventually manage to get a quick shower, which Draco insisted on joining him for, and changed into one of the casual non-uniform robes that he had in his wardrobe. He didn't bother with anything underneath or with shoes, while Draco was fully dressed.

Catcalls and whistles greeted them when they returned to the party. Draco, always the bolder of the two while in public, set his claim on Harry by kissing him firmly while they were still on the stairs, in full view of the whole common room.

There was something refreshing in no longer having to hide their relationship, at least within the confines of their House. The rest of the school, and the wizarding world as a whole, had to remain in the dark. If for no other reason, Harry knew that some day Voldemort would return, and Draco's father would have to resume his duties as a Death Eater, and a public relationship would put every Potter and Malfoy in further danger. As if a reminder of dark times to come, Harry's scar twinged.

All night Draco held onto Harry's hand, as if daring their Housemates to say anything in opposition to their newly outed status.

Relations in Slytherin House were the best Harry had ever experienced. Once the rest of the House knew about Harry and Draco, they began to show more affection in public, at least within the confines of the House. Their roommates were also frequently witness to their displays, as they no longer worried about getting caught.

If it wasn't for the aching in his scar, and that dream he had over the summer, Harry would have been the happiest he could ever remember. He kept an eye on the _Daily Prophet_, noticing little signs here and there of darkness. There was a story about Crouch being absent from the Ministry for an extended period, and a report on the second task.

There was also a Rita Skeeter story with the expected revenge on Hermione. Skeeter depicted her as some cheap fame seeker who was flitting from one famous wizard to the next. She claimed that Hermione had been seeing Harry until she ditched him for Krum, who invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer.

Harry shook his head as he read the fabrications. It would be as funny as Pansy clearly thought it was, if he didn't know what Hermione was in for. There would be howlers and threats and all sorts of ugliness. Harry hated to admit it, but Skeeter was pretty good. Of course, she didn't know Hermione. He had a feeling that a whole new kind of war had started.

The cry of outrage from the Gryffindor table proved his suspicions correct. Hermione had a look of pure fury and determination on her face, and the other Gryffindors were shying away from her.

"What's that muggle saying about a woman scorned?" Draco snickered next to Harry.

Harry grinned. Draco had hit on the perfect analogy, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"This will be entertaining," Pansy smirked.

True to prediction, Hermione was sent howlers and hate mail. After a letter arrived with undiluted bubotuber puss that made her hands break out in large painful sores, Harry asked the house elf that took care of all his fan and hate mail to start intercepting and sorting Hermione's mail as well.

The term dragged on. Hermione started her frantic studying for exams, now frequently reminding all her friends that they had only a year until their O.W.L. exams, and they had to be ready for them. Krum joined them all in the library occasionally and watched Hermione with a combination of amusement and infatuation.

Apart from exams, Hermione was almost obsessive in her search to find out how Rita Skeeter was getting her information. The Headmaster had banned the reporter from Hogwarts school grounds after the article about Hagrid, so she should not have been able to hear the conversation between Hermione and Krum after the second task, when he invited her to Bulgaria.

She researched magical means of eavesdropping, despite assurances from Harry and several other Slytherins that the only spells that would have worked in that particular situation were dark in nature, and therefore would have been detected by Dumbledore. The wards of Hogwarts were designed that way, the strongest protection wards in all of Britain, and possibly in all the world.

The third task was drawing near and the champions had not yet been told the nature of the task. Towards the end of May Snape held Harry back after Potions and told him to be at the Quidditch Pitch at nine that evening for a briefing on the third task.

It was only just starting to get dark at half past eight when Harry walked outside with the Champions. The four of them had all met up in the entrance hall, and Krum and Cedric were speculating on the task as they headed out together.

The pitch looked different than usual, and much to Cedric's horror there were bushes growing all over it. Harry withheld his own grimace, and Bagman was quick to assure them that they would have their pitch back in time for the next quidditch season.

"Now," Bagman clapped his hands together excitedly, "who can tell me what this is?"

"Maze," Krum said gruffly.

"That's right!" Bagman exclaimed. "The third task is very straightforward. The Triwizard cup will be placed at the center of the maze and the first Champion to get past all the obstacles and touch it wins! Those leading in points," he grinned at Harry and Cedric, "will enter first, followed by Mr. Krum, and then Miss Delacour. Should be fun, eh?"

With that, Bagman decided it was getting cold and started to lead them all inside. Before the man could get to Harry, Krum tapped his shoulder. Thankful for the intervention, Harry slowed and stayed back, agreeing to have a talk with Krum.

They walked towards the forest, but kept a short distance from the edge. The visiting students had all been warned about what sorts of things lived in the forest.

"You and Hermione...," Krum got straight to the point.

Harry grinned at him, "We never dated, never wanted to, and never will. Rita Skeeter will print anything."

Krum was visibly relieved and they talked a bit longer. Harry told him about some of the creatures Hagrid was likely to supply for the maze. As far as he was concerned any of the Champions could win and he would be fine. He just wanted to make it through the competition intact.

The fact that there had been no actual attempts on his life, barring the dragon of course, had Harry both relieved and nervous. His scar would not stop itching and he knew it was a sign that Voldemort was gaining strength, gaining power. The prophecy played over in his mind frequently and he had come to a couple of conclusions.

Killing Voldemort would not be as simple as casting the Killing Curse at him. The rebounded curse did not kill him, and Harry doubted that one he cast would.

In order for Harry to kill Voldemort, Voldemort would first have to regain a body and his power. The prophecy that Neville heard stated that Voldemort would return to power more terrible than the last time around.

Part of Harry was anxious for Voldemort to come back so that he could figure out how to kill him and get it all over with. The prophecy clearly stated that he would not be able to live while Voldemort still survived and he understood exactly what it meant. The entire purpose of Harry's life while Voldemort still existed would be to kill the murdering bastard.

There was some movement in the forest and Harry put a hand on Krum's arm. He pointed and they both drew their wands.

Crouch stumbled out from the trees and towards them, "Dumbledore... must tell... huge mistake... my fault... Bertha Jorkins... Voldemort... Harry Potter... my son... Harry Potter..."

The man was an absolute mess. His clothes were torn and ragged. His normally impeccable hair and moustache needed a good wash and brush. His skin was dirty and grey. Harry's eyes narrowed and he gave into the impulse that plagued him every time he saw the man. He cursed him.

_Stupefy!_

"Vosn't he a judge?" Krum questioned. "Isn't he vith you Ministry?"

Harry nodded, "Keep your eyes out. We have to bring him to Dumbledore."

With a quick levitation spell, Crouch was floating and Harry directed him towards the castle, trusting Krum to watch his back. He felt the air heat up and instinctively ducked, just in time for a spell to go sizzling over his head.

"Damn!" Harry hit the ground. They had no cover. Krum started firing spells into the darkness and Harry hoped he had seen the general direction the spell had come from.

At least one spell hit Crouch, breaking through Harry's stunning spell and making the man scream and writhe in pain. Harry didn't hear the incantation when it was cast but knew it had to be the Cruciatus. Not one of the shielding spells he cast around the man stopped the Unforgivable Curse.

Searching his memory furiously, Harry tried to remember the communication spell his parents had taught them. It only worked over short distances, but Harry didn't need it to travel very far. He focused hard and aimed his wand first towards Dumbledore's office.

A silvery ghost-like bird left his wand and headed towards the castle. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and continued firing off the spell. He sent one to Snape's office, to Hagrid's hut, to McGonagall's office, to Madame Maxime in the Beauxbatons carriage, and despite his misgivings regarding the man, to Karkaroff on the Durmstrang ship.

"Vhat vos that?" Krum questioned.

The curses had stopped, but neither of them were about to jump up and give whoever was in the forest a clear target. Crouch was unconscious once more.

"Communication spell," Harry explained quietly. "I called for help."

Lights came on in Hagrid's hut and Fang came running out the door, barking loudly, with Hagrid following. Footsteps sounded behind Harry and he quickly cast a large shield that encompassed the three of them, lying prone on the ground. He twisted and then sagged, letting his shield drop.

"Professor!" Harry called out.

_Lumos!_

Light erupted out of Dumbledore's wand and illuminated the area. Dumbledore was only the first to arrive. Shortly behind him were Snape and McGonagall. Hagrid was there just before them, and Harry heard Madame Maxime and Karkaroff speaking as they approached.

"What is going on here Harry?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

Between the two of them, Harry and Krum were able to explain in detail. When asked why he had stunned Crouch, Harry fought the flush that was trying to rise on his cheeks. He had acted precipitously, but he still thought it was for the best.

"He was raving sir," Harry told them, Snape watching him with lifted eyebrow. The man probably knew exactly what Harry had felt. "I didn't think it a good idea to stand at the edge of the forest and try to get some sense out of him."

"You said you were attacked from the forest?" Dumbledore turned to Krum.

The Durmstrang Champion nodded, "Yes sir. The spells came from dat vay."

"Alastor," Dumbledore commanded, and Harry saw Moody among them for the first time. He wondered when he had joined them. "I need you to search the forest. Mr. Krum, I leave you in the care of your Headmaster."

Krum and Karkaroff left, Karkaroff muttering under his breath about sabotage. Hagrid took Madame Maxime's arm and escorted her back to the Beauxbatons carriage. Dumbledore flicked his wand and levitated Crouch, heading for the hospital wing, while McGonagall and Snape kept their wands out and scanned the area behind Dumbledore as they all returned to the castle.

As much as he wanted to hear the interrogation and find out what was going on, Harry knew not to disobey his Head of House when he was ordered sternly to return to Slytherin with no detours.

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	46. Chapter 46

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**Chapter Forty-Six**

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Harry sat at the Gryffindor table early the next morning. He had talked with the Slytherins the night before, everyone fourth year and up. Once the younger years had gone to bed the older students gathered in the common room and Harry told them what several of them already suspected, that Voldemort was gaining strength again.

From the uncomfortable looks that some of his Housemates had been unable to hide, he knew that their parents had either mentioned something specific to them, or dropped enough clues that they pieced it together.

A few of the older students had excused themselves, seventh years whose parents had been Death Eaters. They wouldn't be able to keep Harry's confidence once they graduated, but were still loyal to him as a member of Slytherin House. All of them had been taught from an early age that their House ties from Hogwarts would extend long after they left the school.

That alone was going to create a great conflict in the upcoming struggle. Harry knew he would have friends fighting on both sides, and it only spurred him on, to end Voldemort as quickly as he could manage.

"What did he have to say?" George asked in a hush.

They were at the end of the table, with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and the twins' friends talking very loudly just next to them to prevent eavesdropping.

"I already told you everything," Harry shook his head. "I'm sure Dumbledore interrogated him."

Brie swallowed deeply. She was young to be there with them, but she had insisted, and Harry knew how furious he would have been if he was kept out of what was happening around him. He put an arm around her and looked up at Neville.

The quiet Gryffindor was paler than usual, "You said he mentioned his son." Harry nodded. "I thought he was dead."

"So did I. It's common knowledge he died in Azkaban," Harry said thoughtfully. He yawned. The night before had been long and he hadn't slept much. He had spent too many hours speculating and mulling over what was going on, until Draco had set about to distract and tire him, rather successfully. Luckily he had History of Magic that afternoon and could get a nap in.

In the _Daily Prophet_ that morning, which arrived midway through the discussion Harry was having with the Gryffindors, there was an announcement of the first prisoner ever to escape from Azkaban. Aurors were searching the country for Barty Crouch Jr.

There was detail of exactly how he had escaped, his dying mother posing as her son with Polyjuice Potion, only to die in Azkaban and be buried in an unmarked grave. Security at Azkaban would be increased dramatically as a result, and if the wizarding world was lucky, perhaps Fudge would finally replace the dementors with human guards, powerful artifacts, and wards.

As for Barty Crouch Sr., his mind had been broken by the Cruciatus Curse cast on him on Hogwarts grounds, but that fact was not published. Professor Snape had pulled Harry aside and told him quietly. The only reason they were able to discover as much as did was by questioning Winky, Crouch's former house-elf who was now bound to Hogwarts.

"There's nothing we can do," Hermione said pragmatically.

The rest of them nodded in resignation. His fellow Slytherins paused by the Gryffindor table on their way to Transfiguration and collected Harry, pointedly ignoring the Gryffindors he sat with.

Class was torturous that day. Harry was glad to be learning something new, feeling the same curiosity and interest that started his second year when the professors began filling the gaps in his pre-Hogwarts education and introducing completely new concepts. His mind kept going over all the recent events though, and following through to their logical conclusion, the resurrection of the worst Dark Lord the wizarding world had seen in centuries.

They studied nifflers in Care of Magical Creatures, and Harry spotted Karkaroff trying to get Snape's attention at every opportunity. That alone was a bad sign, as Karkaroff was a pardoned Death Eater, having spent some time in Azkaban before being released for aiding the Ministry.

By the time History of Magic came around, the period after the Gryffindors suffered the monotony of Binns, Harry wanted nothing more than a soft pillow, and perhaps Draco curled up behind him. Nodding to Neville and Hermione as the crossed in the halls, Harry was thinking of comfortable beds rather than goblin wars.

He cast a strong cushioning charm on his desk in the back of the room and gave no pretence whatsoever of listening to the ghost. Professor Binns never noticed students sleeping in class, or he just didn't care about the frequent snores that pervaded the room.

Draco smirked and shook his head at Harry just before his eyes closed and the droning of the day's lecture lulled him to sleep.

He woke abruptly, heart racing and screams echoing in his ears. Images flitted through his mind's eye... _Wormtail and Voldemort... Nagini... "Your blunder has not ruined everything, but came close indeed. He is of no use to them."_

_The Cruciatus Curse_

He was still clutching his scar. The pain he had felt in his dream as Voldemort cursed Wormtail was real, so real that it carried over when Harry woke from what could not have been a dream, but had to be a vision. It was almost impossible to think but he ran the vision through his mind over and over to make sure he didn't lose a single detail.

"Harry?" Draco's voice came from far away, his touch on his arm tentative.

Harry finally managed to open his eyes and saw that class had stopped. For the first time he knew of, Professor Binns was aware of an interruption to his lecturing. The ghost had floated over and was peering down at Harry along with all of his fellow Slytherins.

"Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing Mr. Potter," Binns said slowly, shocking the entire class simply by knowing the name of one of his students.

Draco helped him stand and Harry held onto the other boy's arm firmly, not so steady on his feet. He fought back a wave of nausea and thought of everything he had read on the Cruciatus Curse. Without a doubt Harry had experienced the curse, even though it wasn't cast on him directly, and he couldn't help but feel a little stab of glee that Wormtail was certainly in worse condition that he at that moment.

Not bothering to ask Binns for permission, Draco directed with only a few gestures for Greg and Vince to pack up his and Harry's belongings. He took both bags and helped Harry out of the room and towards the hospital wing.

Gathering his thoughts Harry shook his head, inwardly cursing at the disorientation that caused, "Not Pomfrey, Dumbledore."

"Harry," Draco began sternly.

But Harry cut him off, "It was a vision Draco. I need to see Dumbledore now."

They stopped for just a moment and grey eyes stared at him, seeming to pierce his soul. Harry firmed his resolve, stubbornly preparing to resist any attempts at coddling or pity. Draco must have gotten whatever assurance he needed, as he nodded and continued with Harry towards the Headmaster's office rather than the hospital wing.

It took several tries and a mildly disgusted Draco to guess the password, _Cockroach Clusters_.

The Minister was in with the Headmaster, as was Moody, who alerted the others to the presence of the two Slytherins outside Dumbledore's office. Fudge, as always, was sickeningly sweet to Harry, and Harry in turn was polite and a bit aloof. He would never intentionally offend or goad the Minister, but he liked to keep the man confused and on his toes around Harry.

Draco, in turn, was wearing his best Heir of Malfoy mask. He even went as far as a polite little yawn to show his utter disdain for the proceedings. Harry wanted to kiss him right there, but restrained himself.

They were left alone in the office while Dumbledore and Moody escorted the Minister off the grounds. For a few minutes there was silence, until Draco was drawn to a silvery glow coming from a cupboard that was open just a crack.

"That's the Headmaster's pensieve," Harry knew instantly. The artifacts were extremely rare, enough so that neither the Potter Family nor the Black Family nor the Longbottom Family owned one. His parents had described it to him when they told him and Neville about the prophecy, and Remus had taught them about pensieves before they even got their Hogwarts letters.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I didn't know he had one."

"It's been in the Dumbledore family for centuries from what I gather," Harry explained.

Though both were tempted they didn't approach the cupboard, having been raised to temper their curiosity, especially where unfamiliar magical objects were considered.

"Severus has one as well," Draco commented almost lazily. "It belonged to his mother."

That made sense to Harry. The Prince family was a very old family, even if it wasn't nearly as old as the Potters or Malfoys, and had contributed several well known academics to a variety of fields.

"Gentlemen," Dumbledore came back to his office. "Are you not supposed to be in History of Magic as we speak?"

"I assume my parents told you about this summer sir?" Harry asked, ignoring the questioning look from Draco.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "That dream of yours has been on my mind a great deal of late."

"And mine," Harry said quietly, but knowing that Dumbledore and Draco heard him. "It happened again sir. You see, I fell asleep in History of Magic today..."

"Quite understandable," Dumbledore twinkled.

Draco rolled his eyes and Harry shook his head. Dumbledore should at least disapprove, even if he wasn't about to take points or assign detention.

"It started as though I was an owl, or maybe riding on the owl," Harry went on to describe the vision, closing his eyes in order to recall the images and provide as much detail as he possibly could.

By the end Draco was certainly frightened, but it only just barely showed in his eyes, and the twinkle was gone from Dumbledore's eyes. The Headmaster stood and walked over to his cupboard. He opened it more fully and picked up his pensieve, shaking in a slight circular motion to sift through the memories within.

An image of Snape rose to the surface, followed by one of Harry, and then a plump young woman that Harry didn't recognize, but Draco did.

"Bertha Jorkins."

Harry flinched just slightly, recalling how he heard of her torture and subsequent murder.

"Indeed Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said sadly. "This is Bertha Jorkins as I remember her when she was a student under my care."

Dumbledore moved back to his desk and Draco followed, but Harry took one last quick glance at the surface of the pensieve, which now showed Snape baring his left forearm, the very distinctive tattoo there beginning to show form once more. Harry could easily guess why Karkaroff had been trying to seek out Snape.

He sat down across from Dumbledore and took the tea that was offered, and the potion that the Headmaster gave him. He drank that first, and recognized the flavor of a powerful painkiller.

"Thank you sir."

"The years before Voldemort's first rise," Draco's flinch at the name was only barely noticeable and Dumbledore ignored it, "was dotted with mysterious disappearances. I fear we are now seeing a similar pattern with Bertha Jorkins and Barty Crouch. Then there was an old muggle, that the Ministry has of course not concerned themselves with, by the name of Frank Bryce."

"The old man this summer," Harry swallowed, his chest feeling tight as a sense of foreboding crept over him.

"Yes Harry," Dumbledore looked down at him over the top of his spectacles.

It was later, as they were walking back towards the Slytherin dungeons that Draco finally spoke. He had been silent for the vast majority of the meeting in Dumbledore's office.

"Why did he let me stay?" Draco asked Harry, sounding a bit confused.

Harry sighed. He didn't have an answer but he had several suspicions. "I can only guess Draco. We know that Voldemort will be back, and that the Death Eaters will be summoned to him, and they will have to show, or be hunted and die. There is nothing he can do to stop that, but he might be able to stop Voldemort from getting new recruits."

"He thinks I might join, and that I might be swayed to his side," Draco nodded, seeing all the angles as the Slytherin he was raised to be.

"More along the lines of swaying you to _my_ side," Harry clarified with a little smirk.

"He knows?" Draco's widened for only a second.

Harry shrugged, "He has the portraits, ghosts, elves, statues, and staff. If he doesn't know by now he will soon enough."

They stopped off at the kitchens for food. Neither of them felt quite up to eating in the great hall. It was then that they discovered that Dobby was working for Hogwarts. The elf had been thrilled to see the both of them and had bobbed and bowed and gave them more food than any two people could consume in a week.

While they ate they talked quietly, plotting. Harry told Draco that he knew Voldemort would be returned to his body, but would not tell him how he knew. Draco understood that some secrets Harry would have to keep. He decided during that talk to start learning Occlumency and to consult his godfather for help in that study.

Draco declared he had no desire to become a Death Eater, but allowed that there was a good possibility that he would be forced into either joining or hiding for the duration of the war.

They stopped at Snape's office on their way back to the Slytherin common room. Harry was still not ready for the company of his peers, especially as they would all want to know what had happened to make him scream like that during class. He had no desire to explain that he had felt a long distance Cruciatus Curse, and wasn't sure if it was prudent to let anyone else know about his visions.

Draco knocked on the Snape's private rooms, a door that very few even knew existed. It opened to reveal a glowering Potions Master, whose glower lessened only fractionally when he saw who was there.

"I think we all need to talk," Harry said carefully.

He was going into this based on the assumption that Snape was truly a spy and loyal to Dumbledore, or at least not loyal to Voldemort. His parents, and Sirius especially, were always wary of Snape. They had never trusted him.

Harry would need to trust someone though, someone who not only could provide information he couldn't get anywhere else, but who wouldn't treat him like a child. He was afraid that despite all the training they had given him, his parents, his godfather, and his honorary uncle would all try to protect him and keep him out of the fight as long as they could manage.

Once they were safely ensconced inside the chambers of the Head of Slytherin, protected behind layers of wards and charms, and drinking tea laced with just a little brandy, Harry began talking.

"Voldemort will have a body soon," Harry said bluntly. Draco flinched and Snape hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Do _not_ say that name in my presence," Snape glared at Harry.

"It is only a _name_ Severus," Harry countered firmly. "It cannot harm you."

A staring contest proceeded, during which Draco gave them both questioning looks.

Harry sighed, "If it offends you that much I will call him Tom or Riddle instead, but I refuse to use those ridiculous hyphenated names the public gave him, and I will never refer to him as Lord, Dark or otherwise."

Snape nodded reluctantly, "That is suitable Harry."

"Since when are you two on a first name basis?" Draco's eyebrows were furrowed in thought and he was seconds away from pouting, but his voice was testy and a little angry.

"Your godfather offered to duel with me whenever I needed to release some stress," Harry informed his partner.

Snape merely lifted an eyebrow at Draco, who had the grace to look ashamed.

Harry then looked Snape in the eye and as a gesture of goodwill opened his Occlumency barriers just enough that Snape could detect his intent. Snape did the same in return and they held eye contact. Between two Occlumens who had a firm grasp of Legilimency, there was no need for truth serums or oaths.

"Your Mark is growing darker. My scar has been hurting. Are you still loyal to Voldemort?"

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	47. Chapter 47

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**Chapter Forty-Seven**

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Draco was still reeling from the talk in his godfather's quarters. He had seen a side to Harry there that was seldom released. It was the ruthless Slytherin in him, the part capable of plotting and making sacrifices that would cause nightmares for most of the population.

At the end his godfather had practically sworn himself to Harry, ahead of both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.

Truthfully, the talk had frightened Draco more than he was willing to admit. All his life, the Dark Lord had been like a character in a fairy tale, a bedtime story told by his parents. True, he had made a few appearances in his ghostly form at the school over the past few years, but Draco had never seen it.

He _had_ seen the Dark Mark on his godfather's arm, slowly returning to its original blackened state, and he knew the same was happening to his father and countless other relatives. The young Slytherin was only just coming to terms with the knowledge that there would be another war, and that he and his friends and family would be deeply involved.

First they had to get through the year though, and that meant getting Harry through the Tournament in one piece. Draco certainly acknowledged that he had a vested interest in keeping Harry intact. He knew that Harry could take care of himself, but at the same time he knew that it wasn't school fights Harry would be facing.

Death Eaters were the issue, a group of highly dangerous wizards (with the occasional witch) that did not get their name lightly. Many of them actually enjoyed causing pain and killing. Draco had only heard the lighter stories when he was younger, the stories that glorified the fight for the freedom of wizards and witches from the oppression of the mudbloods and muggle-lovers.

After he became friends with Harry, Draco had researched. He found old newspaper stories, direct transcripts from trials where the defendants were under Veritaserum. Nothing anyone said could counter those testimonies. Draco learned that the Death Eaters were not revolutionaries or visionaries. They were cold blooded killers, and his father had been one of them.

His father did not know about these discoveries. Draco knew better than to bring up the subject with him or with his mother.

Seeing Harry duel with Severus had given him some relief though. Neither of them had been holding back and it was the most beautiful thing Draco had ever seen. Severus was actually helping Harry learn to use his elemental talents in battle, something that his parents and tutors had apparently neglected.

Lesser duels were a daily occurrence in the common room as the entire House was determined to prepare Harry for the Third Task. Draco was determined to do his part in relieving Harry's stress and distracting him from the dark thoughts in his head, but that was a task left to after curfew, in the privacy of Harry's bed.

Hoping to lighten the mood one night, Draco had finally asked about the stars on Harry's canopy, having discovered that it was a complicated charm, making the stars change accordingly with those in the night sky over the castle. He had been reminded then of Harry's aunt and uncle, and that Harry lived a year of his life in a cupboard under the stairs. Neither of them slept much that night.

Exams arrived, and much of the House had little time to help prepare Harry. Some of the O.W.L. students dueled with him as a means to prepare for their ministry Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, but they also had several other subjects to study for.

The day before the third task dawned. It was the second to last day of exams, and everyone would be able to fully enjoy the final task of the Tournament without any pressure to study hanging over them. Harry sat in on the exams, like he had every day before, claiming he had nothing better to do.

He spent most of the time reading from one of many Defense books that Draco knew did not come from the library. They belonged either to Harry, or to Severus, who had apparently given the Slytherin Champion free run of his bookshelves, a privilege not even Draco had. He was not at all miffed though. Harry needed all the help he could get.

That night was quiet. Harry went to sleep earlier than usual, though Draco had no idea how he managed it. If it was him, the nerves eating away at his stomach would have been much worse than they already were, and would have prevented him from sleeping.

It gave Draco time to watch Harry though. He almost never saw the other boy sleeping, as Harry was always the first to wake up. Running his fingers through dark messy locks of hair, Draco studied his significant other. Emerald eyes were shuttered by lightly twitching eyelids. Harry was dreaming. The lightning bolt scar that identified the youth to the world was red and irritated looking. Harry had been scratching at it regularly of late.

Draco rested his head on his own pillow, his arm wrapped securely around Harry's waist, holding them close together. Harry radiated so much heat, keeping Draco warmer than he had ever been at night. He had never been so comfortable in any bed, ever before.

With thoughts of the task Harry would face the next day drifting through his head, Draco eventually fell asleep, pleasantly curled around a much warmer body.

The lack of warmth was the first thing he noticed when he woke to the sounds of Greg and Vince calling him. He was still in Harry's bed, but Harry was gone, and his friends were standing outside the curtains of his bed trying to wake him.

He yawned and sat up, then parted the curtains, "I'm up."

They both jumped, and when they turned around to see him in Harry's bed they were both blushing brightly. Draco was thankful for the first time that Harry was already up and... wherever he was. Merlin only knows how Greg and Vince would have reacted to seeing them in bed together.

"Breakfast," Greg finally managed to say.

Draco nodded, still not fully awake and a little irritated, but all his roommates were accustomed to his early morning moods. After a refreshing shower Draco dressed and followed his friends up to the great hall. Vince and Greg were discussing something quietly while Draco trudged along silently, not quite ready for conversation yet.

The great hall was more crowded, and much louder than usual, and the reason was apparent. There were guests that morning, apart from the judges, students from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang, and smattering of Aurors, which the Hogwarts students were now all used to. The families of the Champions were present, and the Potter family in particular was quite a spectacle.

Draco knew Harry had five younger siblings, but the only one he had ever met was Brie, having never visited Potter Manor, and missing the two middle boys at the World Cup. Harry's two 'uncles' were also there, much to the joy of the majority of students, who were pestering former Professor Lupin. Draco felt a shudder ease down his spine. He hadn't seen the man since that full moon at the end of the previous school year.

Two toddlers, Harry's twin siblings Draco presumed, were perched on Harry, one on his back and another on one hip. The girl, on his back, was chattering in his ear, and the boy was just looking around, taking in everything with wide eyes. Brie had the other two boys with her, and was introducing them to whatever Gryffindors they hadn't met before. Both of them appeared to know Longbottom, Granger, and all the Weasleys already.

Finally spotting the other Champions, Draco saw that Diggory and his father were talking to Auror Potter and Mrs. Potter. A stern looking couple, and a younger version of Krum, were standing with the Durmstrang Champion, listening to something Karkaroff was saying in what might have been Bulgarian. Draco saw that Black was ostensibly paying attention to the Potters and Diggory, but leaned ever so slightly towards Karkaroff and the Krums, probably listening in for anything suspicious.

A wave of... something... rushed through and by him, and Draco had to shake his head to clear it. Fleur Delacour, along with her little sister and her parents, had swept by him, making a direct path towards Harry. It was clear where Fleur got her Veela heritage, as her mother was even more beautiful than her, if that was indeed possible.

"Mon Pere," Fleur spoke rapidly, French invading her speech every few words, "This ees 'Arry Potter, who saved Gabrielle!"

Harry flushed then and Draco grinned. He knew it wasn't the Veela charm getting to Harry, due to his Occlumency barriers, but the embarrassment of the introduction. Draco wondered if it was worse than being introduced as The-Boy-Who-Lived, but knew he would never dare ask Harry.

Eventually it was time for the next exam, and Draco barely had time to grab some toast on his way out the hall. Harry stayed behind though, and Draco heard Dumbledore suggest that the Champions give their parents a tour of the school. Harry didn't hold in his laughter, and smiled at Draco as he left for his History of Magic exam, cursing all the way that Harry wasn't being subject to endless questions on the goblin wars.

The Potter siblings, Brie included, all ate lunch with the Slytherins that day, and Draco finally met the rest of the Potter brood, Alex, Ian, Rowan, and Ryan. The adults had chairs at the head table, and Draco caught his godfather glaring at the Marauders more than once during the meal.

On his way to his last exam, Draco was stopped by Rowan and Ryan Potter, who had run after him and tugged on his robe as he was leaving the great hall. He leaned down, a questioning look on his face. He had no experience at all dealing with children and no clue what he was supposed to do. He looked to his table for help and Harry just grinned at him.

"Bring Harry's cloak with you," Rowan whispered in his ear, "so they don't see you tonight."

Draco blinked, confused, but before he could ask what in the hell the girl was talking about, the twins had returned to their family. He watched them for a moment, wondering if Brie had put them up to a prank, but resolved to have Harry's invisibility cloak in his pocket during the task... just in case.

More guests arrived during the late afternoon, and ate dinner in the great hall. As it was the final task, several members of the community had decided to make the trip to Hogwarts to see the event. Two more redheads, the Weasel's mother and oldest brother, Draco assumed, joined the Potters in the stands. He didn't see the Longbottoms, but assumed that some Aurors had to be on duty at the Ministry.

Draco took his place in the stands with the other Slytherins. They were seated high up, with an excellent view of the maze. No one would be able to see much of what was going on though. All they could see clearly was the cup at the center, gleaming in the last of the day's sun.

The Champions all stood by the entrance of the maze, quietly talking to each other, and Draco saw them all shaking hands just before Bagman started talking. He rolled his eyes at the Gryffindorishness that Harry was showing yet again. The sorting hat must have had a hell of a time sorting the idiot, Draco mused fondly.

"You look like a fool," Pansy whispered in his ear, leaning over Vince.

"Huh?" Draco then heard the snickers from the Slytherins around them.

"You were smiling in this vague way Draco," Blaise described the vacant, love-struck look that had apparently been on Draco's face, and Draco could only hope he was exaggerating.

He twisted around and glared at his friend, seated behind him, but turned back when Snape walked behind them and cleared his throat. The task was beginning.

It was torture.

There were flashes from spells, and all the crowd could do was 'ooh' and 'ah' and guess at which Champion was casting which spells. There were sounds carrying up to the stands from a variety of creatures, and one point the bottoms of a pair of feet appeared at the top of a passage and then were gone after a few steps in a misty area.

Then the screams started. Everyone in the stands bolted up in their seats and Draco saw the Delacours clutch at each other. It was obvious to all that the one who was screaming was Fleur, the only girl in the maze. Not long after the screams stopped, red sparks appeared above the maze, and Professor Snape came out shortly carrying the unconscious French girl and setting her down on a conjured stretcher. Madam Pomfrey and the girl's parents rushed to her.

One Champion was down.

Soon the flashes of spells were all coming from the same spot. It was by then dark outside, and it was clear that all three remaining Champions were in the same area of the maze. Red sparks flew into the sky again, and this time it was Krum who was brought out of the maze, still and unresponsive, floating in front of Professor Flitwick.

It looked like Harry and Diggory had separated again. The cup was glowing in the center of the maze, and the crowd took in a collective gasp of air when Diggory's form was illuminated by the glow. It looked like it was a given that the Hufflepuff would win.

"Look out!" Harry's voice drifted up to them and Draco saw what Diggory had missed as well.

They could suddenly see Harry as he dove and pushed Diggory out of the way of an Acromantula. Both Champions hit the ground hard, and Harry instantly rolled, wand pointed up at the giant spider, a curse leaving his wand before the movement stopped. There was a cheer at the sight, that Harry Potter had the reflexes of an Auror.

The curse didn't stop the spider though, and one of its legs pierced Harry's leg. Diggory was cursing the spider then, and between the two of them the final Champions brought the spider down.

It was over though. Harry was obviously injured, and Diggory was on his feet. Harry didn't have a chance. Diggory took a step towards the cup, but he hesitated and looked back to Harry. Harry's arm waved and an angry sounding, "Go!" made its way to the audience.

Draco groaned and he was not the only one.

"Are they actually arguing over who will take the cup?" Ted asked incredulously.

One of the older Slytherins shouted out, "Stop being such a Gryff Harry!"

The comment was answered by shouts from the Gryffindors, but it was obvious that the two Champions couldn't hear the students arguing in the stands. Whatever else the two boys were saying couldn't be heard by the crowd over their own voices.

Diggory helped Harry to his feet then, and Harry pointed his wand at his leg. A stream of bandages wrapped around the injured leg and with Harry leaning on Diggory, the two Hogwarts Champions made their way to the Cup together.

Draco wanted to smack his forehead with his hand, but he knew better than to react so obviously in public. Harry was just too noble sometimes. He could have left Diggory to deal with the spider on his own and take the Cup for himself, but _no_, he had to be all Gryffindor about it.

He was interrupted mid-internal rant by a flash and the distinctive sight of two people being sucked into the vortex of portkey travel. All around him people were shouting and jumping to their feet. Draco would have as well, was prepared to rush down to Dumbledore and demand to know where Harry was, but grips like steel held his arms.

"Think before you act Draco," Blaise's voice said in his ears.

He took a deep, calm breath, but inside his heart was beating madly and he was frantic. Harry had disappeared. The Dark Mark was getting darker. Harry had disappeared. Harry's scar had been itching almost constantly. Harry had disappeared. Draco was ready to be sick. Something was happening, something very bad indeed.

Vince and Greg were still holding him in his seat, and slowly Draco forced his muscles to relax. He could not help Harry by panicking. Indeed, there was probably nothing at all he could do to help Harry. The thought was both sobering and, in some way, an epiphany. Helplessness was not a feeling that Draco Malfoy was used to accepting, but he had no choice.

"Let go of me," Draco hissed under his breath. As if stung by his words, Vince and Greg released him immediately. Draco rose from his seat gracefully, with the air of a Malfoy. He looked back to Pansy and Blaise, his nose held just slightly in the air, "Shall we go and see what all the drama is?"

The fourth year Slytherins made their way down from the stands to the edge of the knot of teachers and judges. Aurors Potter and Black were there as well, along with Fudge, and a group was making their way to the center of the maze after Dumbledore waved his wand, creating a direct passage for them.

Snape lingered back and spoke to Draco sotto voce, "No one knows what is happening. Stay if you must but keep out of the way."

Grateful, Draco nodded at his godfather. He would not risk getting sent back to the stands to wait with the rest of the school. Draco felt fear gripping his heart. If no one knew what had happened, then the portkey was certainly not part of the task, and Harry (Diggory too) had been kidnapped.

They got to the center of the maze and the Slytherins hung back, on the fringes of the group examining the spot where the Cup once stood.

"Portkey," Black confirmed for them all, "untraceable."

There was a collective grimace.

"Contact Amelia," Potter turned to the Aurors Draco didn't know and began issuing sharp orders. "I want my son found immediately!"

Fudge began to speak in that false calming tone of his, like he was quelling an angry mob, but one glare from Potter had him pale and silent. James Potter had not risen to the rank of Head Auror by cozying up to politicians. Draco's father, though he disliked Potter, had admitted once or twice that the man was probably most competent Auror in the Department, the Longbottoms and Black just behind him.

The two Aurors ran towards the gates of Hogwarts at top speed, one of them pulling some artifact from his pocket that he could use to communicate with his Department Head.

There was a whoosh of air then, and they all stepped back as the Cup reappeared with Cedric Diggory, but no Harry. Diggory was gasping for breath and clutching at his chest, his eyes wide and his face pale. Veins stood out on his neck and hands as his muscles tensed and strained.

"You-Know-Who... back... has Harry... graveyard," Cedric was trying to speak despite his obvious pain.

"Get Amos down here," Potter snapped at Black before kneeling next to Diggory. Draco saw out of the corner of his eye that his godfather had tensed, his jaw twitching, before his usual dark expression returned. "Take slow breaths Cedric. You're safe. You're at Hogwarts."

Draco would have snorted were the situation any less serious. Didn't the world realize that Hogwarts was not nearly as safe as they thought?

Diggory's eyes latched onto Potter's and he reached out with one hand, which Potter took. The Headmaster kneeled as well, his wand moving over the boy's body, and then he looked up to Severus.

"The old assortment Severus," Dumbledore spoke without any of his usual humor.

Always prepared, Severus pulled out a box of vials and selected several that he knelt and began feeding to Diggory. The Champion's color improved immediately, and his breathing evened, but he still looked to be in pain.

"Cup was a portkey... took us to a graveyard," Diggory could manage more than a word at a time with the potions in his system. "Pettigrew tried to kill me... tied us up... took blood from Harry... resurrected You-Know-Who... Harry got the Cup to me... don't know how... they still have him."

Amos Diggory had arrived by then and was kneeling by his son, holding onto the hand that Potter didn't have, tears streaming down his face. Potter, on the other hand, looked like he was going to either start cursing everyone there, or pass out. He stood shakily, and Black put a hand on his shoulder.

Diggory lost consciousness and was loaded onto a stretcher, which his father and one of the Aurors there led to the castle.

"When Harry returns he will not come to this spot," Dumbledore went to face James Potter, who was suddenly glaring at the Headmaster.

"It was your job to protect him!" Potter exploded, looking like he had a great deal more to say, but he turned and stalked away instead, wand clenched tightly in his hand.

Potter senior, followed discretely by the group of Slytherins, met Lily Potter and the rest of his family at the base of the stands. He hugged his wife tightly, "Voldemort is back. He has Harry."

It was something between a scream and a cry, a mother's anguish, and quickly word spread through the stands. The Weasleys were quickly with the Potters and took charge of Harry's siblings, who were all teary eyed if not crying.

Lupin had never looked scarier, not even in werewolf form, and Draco thought he might be sick or faint himself. The world was spiraling out of control. A hand slipped into his and held him tightly, and Draco turned grateful eyes to Pansy.

A panic might have started, as the words 'You-Know-Who' and 'Potter' echoed through the crowd, but Dumbledore issued a loud bang from his wand, along with a bright flash of light.

"Students stay where you are," Dumbledore ordered. "Remain seated until you are instructed otherwise."

Fudge was stammering about the impossibility of Diggory's words, that the boy must be in shock, addled, that the Dark Lord could not possibly have returned. He was ignored for the most part.

A small voice suddenly shrieked out, "Harry!"

Draco saw the Potter twins break away from Ginny Weasley and start running towards the Hogwarts gate, but there was nothing there. Lupin ran after them, and moments before they got there, the telltale 'crack' of apparition sounded, and a figure appeared, wavering. It took a few steps towards Hogwarts and the gates opened.

The figure collapsed into Lupin's arms, and no one needed any other confirmation that the cry of Rowan Potter had been accurate. Harry had made his way back to them.

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	48. Chapter 48

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**Chapter Forty-Eight**

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He looked down at the white mask held in his left hand, his wand still in his right. How many years had it been? Did it even matter? Footsteps were swiftly approaching but he paid them no mind. It was not the wisest thing to do, to stand where he was, Death Eater robes on his body, Death Eater mask in his hand, and calmly listen to someone coming his way, but that late at night there would be no guests in the Manor.

"Lucius."

Lucius Malfoy looked at his wife, his cool grey eyes staring into her pale blue eyes, the only trait of hers that was from her Black side. The rest had come from her mother, and so she looked nothing like her sisters. Lucius almost cringed. It was only a matter of time now before Bellatrix was broken out of Azkaban, and quite frankly, Lucius despised his sister-in-law.

"Narcissa," Lucius said coolly, then looked down again at the mask in his hand. He tucked it inside the robe, and then removed the robe, draping it over his arm.

With his other arm, he directed his wife into his study, the most secure room in the Manor. There were no portraits there, no Floo connection, and so many wards cast by generations of Malfoy patriarchs that Lucius doubted he could identify or unravel them all.

He tucked the robe away in a secure drawer, from which he could summon it at a moment's notice. That had been his practice in the years of the first rise, once he became the Lord Malfoy, and it was to be his practice once more as the dark years began to return.

Narcissa had been well trained and executed her duty as his wife perfectly. The instant he sat she handed him a glass with the finest scotch, and placed the decanter on his blotter. Only then did she pour a drink for herself, her own favorite brand of amaretto.

"He is back then?"

"Yes."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each with their own thoughts. No matter what ideas they expressed there, it would be risky. Once more, Lucius was about to set out on a dangerous campaign, one that could quite easily land him in Azkaban. He had been lucky last time, using his charm and wealth to avoid Veritaserum and prison. His luck would not be there for him this time, not with Bones, Potter, Black, and the Longbottoms running the Aurors.

"How?"

"I do not know precisely," Lucius admitted with a frown. There was something about the ritual that the Dark Lord did not want them to know, or he would have called them all there to witness his rise. "It involved Harry's blood though."

"Harry?" Narcissa raised a sculpted eyebrow.

Lucius gave her a stern look, "With as many Potters as there are, how would you like me to refer to him?"

He did not speak the rest. Harry Potter was a Slytherin and had been a guest in their home. He was godson to Narcissa's cousin, never mind that Black had been disowned. Though what Black had done was appalling, it was well known that Narcissa's aunt and uncle were insane. There was some bad blood in the Black line.

There was also the little known fact that Draco was infatuated with Harry, something that Lucius would never let on that he knew about. It had been obvious to him, once he really looked. The mere mention of the Potter Heir's name had caused his son's eyes to light up with some internal fire. It might even go beyond infatuation. Though rare in these times, there were still soul mates in the wizarding world.

Lucius went on to explain the evening to his wife. They had been together when he felt the call, and she had known what he was going to. His tale was no surprise to her. Narcissa had claimed ignorance of her husband's and sister's activities in the last war, but she had been far from ignorant. The woman was not a Death Eater herself, but she knew the details well.

He did not miss the quick flash of relief in her eyes when he told her that Harry had escaped.

As much as they had both tried to hate the boy for stripping the Dark Lord of his body all those years ago, neither had succeeded. It had been a relief to some extent, that the killing was over, that the threat of the Ministry discovering his loyalties and taking everything away from his family was gone,... that Draco would not grow up surrounded by war.

Lucius had never dreamed that his son would be friends with Harry Potter, but he eventually saw that it was inevitable. Draco had always loved the stories of The-Boy-Who-Lived when Narcissa read them to him at bedtime. When the Potter boy was sorted into Slytherin it was only a matter of time.

"He will release Bella," Narcissa spoke softly, her voice uneven. She still loved both her sisters, despite the poor choices of one and insane fanatical devotion of the other.

Lucius merely nodded, uncommitted, his mind still on Draco. His son had changed, almost certainly from the influence of Harry, and in some ways Draco's changes were for the better. Lucius was the first to admit his son was spoiled and he felt a cold dread at the thought of his dragon, proud and self-centered, going before the Dark Lord with a sense of entitlement. He would have learned in a much more painful way that despite the rules of being a Malfoy, there were those that while not superior, had to be treated as such.

"Cissy," Lucius poured himself another glass and looked his wife in the eye. He rarely called her by her nickname, and only for serious discussions, "what do you want? Where are your loyalties?"

"You pick your setting well, husband," Narcissa temporized. She had another drink herself and held her glass up, watching the candlelight diffract on the many facets of the crystal.

Narcissa then set down her glass and looked at him without expression in her face, "I was groomed all my childhood to be your wife. My mother was a Rosier, my grandmother a Crabbe, and my great-grandmother a Bulstrode. When they married they became Blacks. When I married, though the blood of the Blacks runs through my veins, I became a Malfoy. My loyalty is to you above all others, and to our son."

Pleased with her answer, Lucius smiled. Their marriage was arranged, but he could not have asked for a better wife. She was beautiful, biddable, intelligent, and had provided him with an heir. She could also be passionate and powerful, just as both her sisters were. It was truly a shame that Andromeda had fallen in love with that mudblood.

"You answer well, wife," Lucius spoke, a smirk quirking the corners of his mouth. "You have only responded to one of my questions though. What do you want?"

Narcissa faced him with fire in her eyes, "I want my family to survive. I want Draco to grow into a man and have a family of his own. I want him to avoid the servitude that his father fell to."

He could not help it. Lucius winced. Narcissa had chosen not to take the Mark and the Dark Lord had not objected to her decision. He had very few female followers and did not seek them out. Only those women who came to him were Marked. It was men that were recruited, and killed for their resistance.

Lucius did not know that Narcissa viewed things that way, that she saw him as a servant, which was what he was. Only hours ago he had knelt, crawled, kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes and begged for forgiveness. There were house elves with more pride than he.

"I do not see how Draco can avoid such a fate," Lucius said reluctantly. He had urged her to speak openly and would not censure her.

"Send him away," Narcissa said suddenly. She may have left much of his rearing to the house elves, but Narcissa loved her son dearly.

Lucius sneered, "Where? He cannot go to the Parkinsons or the Averys or the Crabbes or Goyles. All our friends are in the same position we face. We will serve the Dark Lord or we will die."

"Severus is not dead." Narcissa spoke almost as though in prayer.

"Severus did not show his face tonight," Lucius informed his wife, and her head snapped up.

Severus had been something of a pet to her at Hogwarts, the small abused boy with the muggle father. She had introduced them and started their friendship, though Lucius had already known of him as a cousin of sorts. She had chosen him as Draco's godfather, and Lucius and Severus had grown closer over the years through her.

"Did he...?"

Lucius took a deep breath, "Karkaroff did not show either. He publicly denounced his Lord and gave names. He will be killed. Severus has some explaining to do. He was at Hogwarts tonight though, and may not have been able to leave from right under Dumbledore's nose."

Narcissa swallowed and nodded, her fears at least somewhat allayed. Between Severus's talents at Occlumency and his silver tongue, he would certainly find a way to appease the Dark Lord. Lucius had no concern for his old friend. He had a suspicion that Severus would even avoid the Crucio that Lucius had that night suffered. Severus was truly slippery like that, a superb Slytherin.

"We may lose all this," Narcissa spoke softly, looking around her.

A sneer graced his face as Lucius thought of the Ministry taking the home that had been in his family for centuries. "I would sooner die."

His wife's eyes narrowed, "That is a dangerous thought Lucius."

He thought back to his night in the graveyard. Draco had let slip a few things about the training Harry had gone through, and Lucius knew that the boy had not performed anywhere near his highest level of proficiency, and yet the power he displayed was far more than an average fourth year wizard. Harry Potter had been the reason the Dark Lord went after the Potters. Harry Potter had been the one to defeat the Dark Lord as an infant. Lucius had a deep gut instinct that Harry Potter would once more come out victorious.

"We must plan for the future," Lucius said quietly, his voice soft despite all the protections around him. His mind was protected from a casual scan by the Dark Lord, but even thinking of going against him was dangerous.

Narcissa nodded though, her thoughts headed in a similar direction, "We must plan for Draco's future."

Their eyes met and a resolution was made. Lucius did truly despise mudbloods and muggles, and had few qualms about having a little fun with them, but he did not relish the damage to his soul that came with killing. He also knew there were ways to change the world that did not involve risking a life term in Azkaban or getting sentenced to a dementor's kiss, a lesson he had learned after the Dark Lord's fall.

The Dark Lord was insane, that much was clear, and he was also a filthy half-blood himself, far less pure than Harry Potter, whose mother was at least a witch. The Dark Lord was worse than Severus because he hid his parentage, and Severus was family.

As though speaking of the man brought him into their presence, there was a knock on the door, much higher than a house elf could reach. Lucius waved his wand and the door became transparent for a moment, showing him Severus on the other side. Looking to the window Lucius saw it was nearly dawn.

The door opened with another flick of his wand and Severus entered, nodding to them both in greeting. Lucius let himself smirk again. He was right. There was Severus, dressed in his Death Eater garb, yet showing no signs of any curse.

"How much have you had to drink Lucius?" Severus asked instantly. Lucius told him and Severus nodded, retrieving a vial from his robes. "I was informed of your misfortune this evening."

Lucius took the vial and drank the potion quickly, knowing it would taste horrid. He raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"Harry informed us," Severus said as he sat, his face suddenly looking as if it were made of stone as he realized his slip.

"That makes three of us for whom Potter is Harry when he should not be," Narcissa broke the tension in the room.

"I was not aware you had any liking towards the boy," Severus said as he accepted a drink from Narcissa. No answer was needed and he continued after drinking. "I just came from Him and He has accepted my answers. I thought you would want to know Cissy."

She looked like she might get up and hug the younger man, but maintained her composure.

"Why did you come Severus?" Lucius asked his son's godfather.

"I knew you needed that," Severus indicated the vial. "It is an improved version. I have had the time these many years to work on several of my creations."

"This will always remain a favorite of mine," Lucius referred to the potion Severus had developed to treat the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.

"I have not much time," Severus told them, "as I am due back at Hogwarts. Is there anything you wish for me to pass on to Draco?"

"Tell him," Lucius hesitated. What did he tell his son, that his father was once again to be a murderer? "Tell him his mother and I are well. We love him."

Severus raised a single eyebrow in that way he had that effected no other part of his face, "You will see him in a few days yourselves."

"If you did not want Draco involved in your activities this summer, where would you send him?" Lucius asked his friend, feeling some small amount of comfort in knowing that if Severus was not in Dumbledore's camp, he was loyal to Harry Potter.

Severus smirked at them widely, in the superior way that he picked up from his own seven years in Slytherin House, "I would send Draco to the last place anyone would look for him, and claim he is with some obscure relative in France or Russia."

Lucius just glared, not at all appreciating Severus's enjoyment at his expense.

"Potter Manor."

Narcissa coughed, much more shocked than Lucius.

"It has already happened then?"

"Yes."

"What in the name of Merlin are the two of you talking about?" Narcissa demanded, her temper getting the better of her. She did not like being left in the dark, or being the last to know anything.

"I do not think we will have to go to the trouble of arranging a marriage Narcissa," Lucius told his wife dryly. It potentially meant the end of the Malfoy line, but they could always insist that if Draco would not marry the perfect pureblood witch, then he would at least use one for a surrogate mother for his heir.

Narcissa just blinked a few times and took another drank, "At least Harry is a match for our dragon."

All three of them smirked then, knowing that Harry Potter was more than a match for Draco Malfoy. Severus even chuckled, "You have nothing to worry about there. There are times were Draco is simply dumbstruck around him."

Lucius felt a pang then. Severus had known of this milestone in his son's life before him. Draco had likely trusted Severus with this, and not dared to trust his own father.

"You have seen them together then?" Narcissa asked with that same hunger that Lucius felt. Their son was growing into an adult, and likely into an adult that would have little to do with them if Lucius continued on his current course. It gave him yet one more reason to reconsider his alliances.

Severus just nodded, "They are appropriately discreet in public, but all of Slytherin knows and they are prone to displays of affection within the House."

Both Malfoys nodded, well aware of the dichotomy of the average Slytherin student. Within the House Slytherins could be so much more than they ever let outsiders see.

"How long has it been?" Lucius questioned. He needed more information if he was to act.

"The night of the First Task," Severus replied, pouring himself another drink.

It was as he thought then. If Draco had not been serious about this relationship it would have ended within a few months, and they were approaching eight now. Almost surprised at how quickly he made his decision, Lucius nodded to Narcissa.

"I will not defy the Dark Lord outright Severus, not yet," Lucius told his distant cousin and longtime friend, "but I will not see my son killed."

He stood and held out his wand so that the point faced his own body, rather than Severus's, and Severus did the same. The handles of their wands touched and there was a crackle of magical energy. Ollivander kept the wands in his shop in boxes for a very good reason.

"I, Lucius Malfoy, do hereby swear that my wife and I will protect the life of Severus Snape by any means within our power." Light flared and enveloped them. "We will not reveal to the Dark Lord the true loyalties of Severus Snape. We will protect the life of Harry Potter and remain loyal to him."

With each oath the light grew stronger. It was not an Unbreakable Vow, as it did not use a third party in the binding of the Vow, but a Bonded Oath, which tied two people together by their Oaths. Their magic would not kill them if they foreswore their Oaths, as it would with an Unbreakable Vow, but they would be punished severely and most likely permanently.

"I, Severus Snape, do hereby swear that I will protect the lives of Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter. I will not reveal the true loyalties of any of the Malfoys to the Dark Lord. I will remain loyal to Harry Potter."

The light flared once more and then died down.

"Do you boys need to exchange blood as well, or can Severus go home now?" Narcissa said with a measure of teasing.

It had been a necessary measure to assure that they were safe after the things they had spoken to each other. If the conversation ever got back to the Dark Lord none of them would live long enough to breathe another breath.

"Damn, now I must plead sanctuary for my son from Potter," by which, of course, he meant James Potter, not Harry.

"Better you than me Lucius. At least you do not have to spend countless hours with those thrice be damned Marauders."

Severus was still grumbling as he left for Hogwarts and Lucius felt his own spirits lift somewhat. At least Severus would be suffering more than he.

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	49. Chapter 49

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**Chapter Forty-Nine**

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Harry didn't think he could move another inch, and was more than grateful when his Uncle Moony appeared in front of him, giving him a convenient place to fall. The twins were there too, and Harry knew they had led Moony to him. He had to remember to thank them some day.

The werewolf carried Harry back to Hogwarts and his mind was fuzzing in and out, his scar still aching with residual burn. There were important things he had to say, to tell Dumbledore.

"Potions Moony," Harry managed to say, "on my belt."

Moony shook his head, but paused to search through Harry's potions for the ones he needed. Snape had made them for him when Harry mentioned he was considering carrying a selection around like most Aurors. Soon he had taken a pain reliever, Pepper-Up, and a general wound healing potion. His head cleared and some of his aches went away, but his leg was still in bad shape.

Even so, "Put me down Moony."

His uncle didn't bother to argue and Harry got his first good look at the man. Remus was showing a cross between fury and anguish. Harry hugged him, and gritted his teeth when the return hug made his aches increase. It brought back some tough memories from earlier that night when he leaned on Moony to walk to the crowd waiting for him. He had done the same with Cedric when they took the Cup together.

"Cedric?" Harry questioned.

Remus answered, but his voice was taut, "He got back, but I don't know how he is. Poppy is looking after him."

Harry shuddered. He had no idea if Cedric would be okay. The curse had gotten too close him and Harry feared he had condemned the Hufflepuff to a slow agonizing death rather than the quick one that he almost received.

Their pace back to the crowd waiting for Harry was as quick as he could move with his injured leg, which was not very quick at all, but Harry refused to be carried like a child. If he had still been a child that afternoon, there was no way he was one now.

Too many people stood there, the professors, his family, Fudge, the whole school... Harry slowed even further. He didn't want to face them all. He turned pleading eyes to Moony, who nodded and gave quick instructions to the twins.

"Go tell your father that Harry doesn't want any crowds," Moony said, and the two three-year-olds obediently ran ahead of them.

Harry watched from a distance as the twins reached their father and spoke with him. Actually, Rowan spoke while Ryan stood silent. Harry, distracted for a moment, tried to remember if he had ever heard his youngest brother's voice. Even when the twins were babies, Ryan hadn't cried much after a few months.

Before they got much further, Harry's father, mother, and godfather all ran towards him and he was subjected to more hugs than he had ever received at any one time that he could recall.

"Never do anything like that again!" Lily Potter scolded her eldest son between frantic hugs.

Harry squirmed away from her, eyes downcast, "I can't promise that Mum."

"Harry?" James asked for explanation with just the one word.

He looked up at his family and saw the pain in all of their eyes, and knew it would not be the last time he saw it. He had thought several times that night that he would die, and just began to realize that his family was equally at danger. His Slytherin mind instantly began planning on all the ways he could keep them safe.

"I have to fight him again," Harry said softly, knowing he didn't have much time before the Minister and Dumbledore would be there, demanding some explanation. "You all know I have to, and why. Even if I tried to hide he would bring the fight to me."

His mother was crying by then, and his father and uncles looked close to it. All of them were familiar with the prophecy of course and had been training Harry to fulfill it for years, but maybe they, like Harry, had not believed, in the deepest part of their being, that it would happen, not when Harry was still so young.

He felt removed from them, and not for the first time. His parents were holding hands and his father handed a handkerchief to his mother, who dabbed at her eyes. They were the adults, and they had fought in one war already, but he felt different from them. At the tender age of fourteen, Harry had already faced some manifestation of Voldemort four times and he was already planning for the next encounter.

"We can't avoid it any longer," Sirius said, rarely the voice of reason, but on occasion he was Auror Black outside of work, cool and decisive.

Harry was grateful that Dumbledore escorted them up to his office. No one protested to Harry going there to tell his story before visiting Poppy, as she was busy with Cedric and Harry had to be questioned while the night was still fresh in his mind.

As soon as he sat, Harry heard a trill, saw a flash of red, and a warm pleasant weight settled on his knee. Fawkes's head tilted down and pearly tears fell onto the wound in his leg from the Acromantula. Harry stroked the phoenix as it cried for him, murmuring his thanks softly. Once his puncture wound was healed Harry looked up at Dumbledore first and then around the room.

Fudge was there, his expression stubborn, and Harry knew instantly that the man would not believe a word he said. He was tempted to ask him to leave, but knew he could not dare. Moody stood against the wall, next the door leading back down the spiral stairs to the rest of the school. Harry's mother was seated at his side, holding his hand, and he let her. It was more for her support than his. The true Marauders stood together opposite Moody, a united force.

None of his siblings were present, for which Harry was thankful. They were all too young, too innocent, to hear something like this. The only ones he wanted present that were not there were Draco and Severus. He needed Draco's presence, and Severus needed to hear what happened as soon as possible.

He took a deep breath.

"The portkey took us to a graveyard...

_"Wands out, you reckon?" Cedric said as they landed._

_Harry didn't like the feel of this. Instinctually, he knew the Cup should not have been a portkey. Someone had tampered with it. Then there was the increased pain in his scar..._

_"Way ahead of you," Harry had drawn his wand before his feet ever touched the ground._

_They were in a graveyard, somewhere in the center, as not a house or other building, apart from the occasional mausoleum, was in sight._

_Approaching them was a hooded figure and Harry stepped further from Cedric – better two targets than one. He whispered just loud enough for the Hufflepuff to hear, "Shields."_

_A deep raspy voice sent shivers down his spine. He had heard it before, but only in dreams, "Kill the spare."_

_Before the wand rose Harry knew what would happen. No shield would help them, and he would have to time this perfectly. Cedric looked blessedly ignorant, confused, and Harry was tempted to snort._

_The hood fell back and Harry saw Wormtail as he stepped closer, wand pointed at Cedric, cradling something in his other arm, "Avada Kedavra!"_

_Before the rat finished the curse Harry was moving. He dove and tackled Cedric, pushing him to the ground as green curse light sailed over them. He shot back a curse at Wormtail, fueled by his anger. His leg throbbed as he forced himself to stand. It would buckle under him if he moved too much._

_Cedric had clued in and was throwing curses as well, but Wormtail was a better dueler than Harry expected. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what was going on, try to think despite the pain in his head. Wormtail would not have gone to the trouble to get Harry there without some dark intent. He clearly did not want to kill him, at least not immediately, as no more killing curses were cast._

_"Enough!" that raspy voice spoke once more. "Finish this!"_

_"Crucio!"_

_The Unforgivable crashed through Harry's shield and he fell, his body being stabbed over and over by thousands of white hot knives. He was out of his mind with pain and he heard screams, as if from some great distance._

_When the pain ended Harry was tied to a gravestone, Cedric bound as well, facing him. The Hufflepuff was bleeding from a gash on his temple, and his eyes were wide with fright. Harry feared his were as well, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure._

_Both had been divested of their wands, which were held firmly in Wormtail's grasp. The Cup was a good three meters behind Cedric, lying on its side in a shadow, and Harry prayed it was charmed for travel both ways._

_The moon was three-quarters full, but the sky was cloudy, and the light from the moon was obstructed regularly. Darkness was his friend, Harry told himself, thankful they were out in the open. He could handle it dark, so long as he was not in a small space too._

_There was a splash and Harry twisted to see what Cedric was staring at, nearly cursing at the pain caused by the simple movement. It was a giant cauldron, large enough to fit two grown men, or one grown Dursley man. Wormtail was adding ingredients and ignoring them._

_Harry knew he could escape easily, and take Cedric with him as well, but he held back. All he needed to do was burn the ropes away, a simple task for him. Two things stopped him; he wanted to know what was happening, needed to know, and he did not want to reveal the extent of his power to Wormtail, not yet._

_Cedric did not have to be there though, and Harry waited for the right moment._

_"It is time."_

_Harry saw Cedric shiver as the bundle spoke once more. He truly did not want to see what was in there, but could not look away. Wormtail lifted it and the robe it was wrapped in fell away. It was the most disgusting thing Harry had ever seen, like the picture of an aborted fetus he once got a glimpse of in a muggle magazine. Wormtail dropped it into the cauldron and there was a splash._

_Knowing it wouldn't happen, Harry prayed anyway that the thing would drown in there._

_The wand Wormtail held was pointed near Harry's feet. The earth trembled, and cracked, and a powdery substance lifted into the air and arced into the cauldron._

_"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

_Wormtail next held his right hand over the cauldron and Harry tensed, preparing himself for what he knew was coming. A great dagger appeared in Wormtail's left hand and he brought it down swiftly, cleanly severing hand from wrist, letting it fall into the cauldron. He cradled the bleeding stump to his chest, whimpering slightly._

_"Flesh – of the servant – w-willingly given – you will – revive – your master."_

_Wormtail advanced on Harry, dagger in hand, and Harry glared at him with every ounce of venom he could muster. The rat faltered, but continued his approach, carefully. Harry smirked. He was the one bound, and he still had the power._

_The dagger thrust at him and stabbed into the fleshy underside of his right elbow. Blood welled up quickly and trickled down his arm, quickly filling the vial that Wormtail held to the cut. The vial was upended into the potion._

_"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."_

_Now was the time to do it, when Wormtail was distracted. Harry called up the wind silently, and centimeter by grueling centimeter he began to move the Cup towards Cedric's bound hands._

_A figure rose from the cauldron, pale and thin, with eyes a glowing red and two slits like a snakes where his nose should have been. He opened his lipless mouth to speak, "Robe me."_

_Wormtail, one-handed, struggled to dress the resurrected Lord Voldemort._

_Once dressed, the self-titled Dark Lord turned his gaze on the two boys. He looked on Cedric first and an evil smile lit his face, "Perhaps I shall let you witness the downfall of the Boy-Who-Lived. You are a privileged boy. There are many who would eagerly pay to see Harry Potter die."_

_Harry silently pleaded with Cedric not to speak a word, and rejoiced that the Hufflepuff was either too smart, or too frightened, to reply._

_"And Harry," Voldemort turned to him and one long bony finger ran down the side of his face. Harry wanted to pull away, his scar burning more than ever, but he would not show any weakness. "You are my guest at my rebirth tonight. You triumphed thirteen years ago, but tonight... tonight it is I who will declare victory._

_"Wormtail!" The voice changed from a slippery seductive tone to icy command, "Your arm!"_

_"Th-thank you master... thank you...," Wormtail held out his injured right arm._

_"Your other arm, Wormtail," Voldemort was death itself, threatening in a deeper rasp._

_Wormtail whimpered and wept but complied. His sleeve was pushed back and the Dark Mark revealed. Harry heard Cedric hiss, sucking in a shocked breath, but he ignored the other boy, his concentration split between the two threats and the Cup._

_One long finger caressed the arm, almost as a lover would, and Harry felt ill deep within. Then the pale hand grasped the arm tightly and Wormtail whimpered once more. A deep, dark part of Harry felt a vindictive pleasure at the rat's suffering. Voldemort pressed his thumb down on Wormtail's Mark and the rat cried out and fell to his knees._

Now_, Harry thought to himself. The wind picked up a bit, but Voldemort sensed something._

_"How..." Voldemort turned and saw the Cup rolling towards Cedric. "NO! Avada Kedavra!"_

_It was a race against time. The curse that sped towards Cedric was within millimeters when the Cup reached the Hufflepuff. The vortex of the portkey was illuminated in green light which lingered after Cedric was gone and the gravestone he had been bound to exploded in a cloud of marble dust._

_Furious crimson eyes lit on Harry, who made sure he looked frightened and confused, his Occlumency walls solid, holding a sense of fear, innocence, and relief in the forefront of his mind. He knew from Snape that Voldemort was a skilled Legilimens and could cursorily scan the fringes of a mind with little effort._

_The ropes holding Harry fell away and the sudden weight on his injured leg caused him to collapse._

_"Crucio!"_

_He was screaming again. Harry was in agony, and all that kept him from retreating into his mind was the knowledge that Voldemort was a showman, and he would want Harry's death to be so much more than this._

_The sounds of apparition were all around him. Robed and masked figures were appearing and forming a circle around him. Harry lay prostrate on the ground, quietly gathering what energy he had left and firming his will. He would survive the night. He would return to Hogwarts to tell them that Voldemort was back. He made this vow to himself, not knowing if Cedric was alive or dead..._

Harry went on to tell his family, Dumbledore, the Minister, and Moody about the arrival of the Death Eaters, but not naming any names. Voldemort had not given them, and the Death Eaters had not offered them, but Harry had seen that flash of pale blond hair, and he recognized the shapes and voices of some of his friends' parents. He would wait though, before giving them up. It was not like anyone other than Fudge would be surprised at the names.

The duel was carefully picked over, move by move. Harry had been under Cruciatus three times that night and he ached all the way into the marrow of his bones. He knew he would have to get up and walk to the infirmary eventually but did not know how he would manage it.

He told them how the wands connected, Priori Incantatum, the reverse spell effect that occurred when brother wands met in battle. When the golden cage surrounding them fell Harry had taken his chance and apparated while Voldemort was still trying to figure out what was going on with their wands.

"Hogwash," Fudge blustered, but his actions belied his words. He was trembling and his hat was being wrung in his hands. "That's the biggest lie I have ever heard Potter."

The Minster startled when he heard the low growl issuing from Remus's throat. He looked around and quaked at the glares being sent his way. Harry merely looked at the Minister as if he was some odd species of beast new to Harry, having expected this very reaction. Fudge hastily pulled a small purse out his cloak and dropped it on Dumbledore's desk with little ceremony.

"Split that between the boys Dumbledore," Fudge said quickly. "One thousand Galleons."

"Voldemort is back Cornelius," Dumbledore ignored the gold and spoke calmly, slowly.

"He... He can't be," Fudge almost whimpered just as Wormtail had. "Albus?"

"The first step is to remove the dementors from Azkaban – "

The Headmaster got no further. Fudge had paled dramatically, yet his voice grew stronger, "Preposterous! I'd lose my job! The only reason people sleep at night is knowing the dementors guard that prison!"

"Cornelius!" Dumbledore rose from his chair and Harry felt a wave of power, power that Dumbledore normally held in check, and hid behind the facade of the absent-minded grandfather-like Headmaster. "This country will soon be at war, and I intend to fight for it."

"Y-you... y-you..."

"Will you help me Cornelius, or will you hinder me?"

Fudge snarled then, like a wild thing backed into a corner, "I am the Minster of Magic Albus, not you! You-Know-Who cannot possibly be back! He is dead!"

"It seems that we have reached a crossroads then," Dumbledore looked legitimately saddened by the Minister's decision to stick his head in the sand like a frightened ostrich and ignore the looming war. "You will do as you see fit, and I shall do as I see best, as I always have. Goodbye."

The Minister's face was red with anger. He looked around and found no support from two of the most highly placed Aurors in the Ministry, and left through the Floo for his office in a flash of green. The Headmaster took them all in and began speaking.

"Sirius, Remus, alert the Old Crowd at once," Dumbledore spoke swiftly and the two men left immediately, only bending to kiss the top of Harry's head before they were through the door and gone.

"Lily, James, I will need you most of all," Harry's parents nodded, and his mother kissed his father and left quickly. She hugged Harry tightly and he felt like his bones were all grinding together, his muscles cramping into tight knots, but he did not let on.

"Headmaster... Uncle Albus," Harry interrupted, and the three remaining men in the room looked at him, almost as if they had forgotten he was there, but Harry knew they hadn't. "There was one more thing."

"Yes?" Dumbledore's eyes hardened, instantly picking up on Harry's skillful omission of a few relevant facts, things that the Minister could not hear.

"There is a traitor," Harry had his wand in hand, as he had done some quick thinking in the graveyard and had come to a solution that felt like poison in his mouth, "here in the school."

There was a quick movement and Harry rose swiftly, thanking Fawkes silently for healing his leg, and shot a fast stunner at Moody, putting every bit of power he had behind it. The Auror blocked it and returned fire, but a combined stun spell from Dumbledore and James Potter took him down.

"Harry?" his father looked at him questioningly, begging to know why he had just attacked his mentor.

"That isn't," Harry's voice wavered slightly then, the adrenaline bleeding out of him, the events of several hours catching up to him. "That _can't_ be Alastor Moody Dad. Voldemort said he had a servant stationed here and Mad-Eye... he hasn't been acting quite like himself. Tonight... I realized... no matter what else he might do..." Harry felt himself tearing. He was exhausted, and not just physically. He felt wrung out, wasted. "Uncle Alaster would _never_ cast the Unforgivables, not even on spiders, and _never_ in front of me and Neville."

Dumbledore had kneeled beside the Defense Professor then and pulled out the hip flask that Moody always drank from. He opened and sniffed, "Polyjuice."

James Potter scowled at the imposter, pieces falling into place for him as well, "No need to wait for this to wear off. My money is on Barty Jr."

Harry was breathing deeply. His muscles were starting the quiver and he knew he was about to fall. Merlin, how he needed a pain killer potion right then. Invisible hands came from nowhere to hold him up and Harry jerked in surprise, his father and Dumbledore turning to see what was wrong.

Draco emerged from the invisibility cloak and helped Harry sit, "Your littlest sister told me to bring it tonight."

The other Slytherin offered no more explanation and was careful not to be _too_ attentive to Harry. It wouldn't do to reveal their relationship just yet, even if it was only family there. Harry just couldn't take his father's reaction on top of everything else from that night.

They exchanged a quick glance, one that spoke volumes. _Yes, your father was there. I was so scared for you. I'm here now._

Barty Crouch Jr. emerged from the form of Alastor Moody and Draco was sent to find Severus and get some Veritaserum. He was also to fetch McGonagall, as all the students should be sealed in their common rooms, the unwanted guests off the grounds, and the families of the Champions and the Weasleys in the great hall with the house elves feeding them dinner.

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	50. Chapter 50

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**Chapter Fifty**

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Arms held him tightly against a thin frame while the charmed stars on the canopy of his bed provided a mild glow against the darkness of the dungeon rooms of Slytherin House.

The nightmare had awoken him again, but at least this time it hadn't woken Draco.

Fudge had been called back from the Ministry and told that the Death Eater responsible for the night's trouble had been captured. The idiot brought a dementor with him, supposedly for protection, and Barty Crouch Jr., escaped criminal from Azkaban, was kissed before Fudge could hear his interrogation directly.

Despite the word of his Head Auror and the Headmaster, and even the sight of Snape's Dark Mark, Fudge refused still to believe that Voldemort was back. Harry's father and godfather were going to have a lot of trouble at work on top of the brewing of another war.

Poppy kept Harry in the hospital wing that night, and his entire family had stayed by his side. Luckily she gave him Dreamless Sleep and he made it through the night without reliving the desperate duel in the graveyard.

Harry had tested Voldemort that night, though the self proclaimed Dark Lord did not know it, and he had unfortunately passed with flying colors. The fourteen-year-old still had a lot left to learn, too much. He had not revealed his elemental magic, yet he had learned that Voldemort was nearly indestructible. Nothing he had cast at the other wizard had come even close to hitting, and both of them had already survived the killing curse once.

Something was keeping Voldemort alive. Some ritual, or some dark magic, or _something_ had made it so Voldemort could not be killed by any normal means. As Harry had been taught, every curse has its counter and every hex could be reversed. There was a way to kill Voldemort, and he just had to find it.

Cedric was still in the hospital. The older boy had been transferred to St. Mungo's fairly quickly, and the healers there weren't sure there was anything they could do. No one knew what to do for someone who had been partially hit by the killing curse.

Harry swallowed hard and closed his eyes tight. Had he failed at saving Cedric? He could have gotten them both out of there so much earlier, but he _had_ to wait and see what Wormtail intended. Then he figured he could manipulate part of the prophecy by allowing Voldemort to come back in a situation that Harry could partially control.

At least he knew what was going on. Had he run, then Wormtail might have snatched some random witch or wizard to use for the ritual and Harry wouldn't know that Voldemort was out there.

But was it worth Cedric's life? Did Harry have the right to make that judgment?

"Harry."

Grey eyes blinked in the semi-darkness and cool fingers flitted over his back and arms. Harry turned to face Draco, not bothering to hide the turmoil and pain in his eyes.

Draco inched towards him and wrapped him in a hug, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, not bothering to spout useless reassurances. Both of them knew that everything would _not_ be alright, no matter how many adults tried to tell them otherwise.

"I got a note from my father," Draco told him quietly. "He sent it through Uncle Severus. I'm to obey what my mother tells me tomorrow, and not argue the outcome no matter what it is."

Harry furrowed his brow. Lucius Malfoy was another matter preying on his mind of late. From just a few conversations here and there, a couple at Malfoy Manor, some words during the World Cup, Harry felt he had made a connection of sorts with Draco's father. If nothing else, he knew the blinders had been removed from the man's eyes. Lord Malfoy was no sheep to Voldemort the shepherd. He would be making a more informed decision.

What that decision would be though, Harry had no idea. He liked to think that the older man would turn on his master and support the side of 'light', but Harry knew the man was thoroughly Slytherin and would likely act in his own interest, which included remaining alive.

"Did he say anything specific?" Harry asked carefully. They had not talked about it in detail, but Draco knew that his father had been among those chasing Harry that night, and yet he was still there, in Harry's bed.

Draco shook his head. "He would not dare, not in writing, and not even to Severus."

"Dray..." Harry did not know how to say it, how to ask Draco where his loyalties rested. He knew months ago, even days ago, but the whole world had changed in a span of minutes.

Tentatively Draco raised a hand to brush through Harry's unruly hair. He shifted, drawing closer. Harry was tense, uncertain. Lightly, lips brushed over his and he sagged, falling into the embrace that awaited him.

"I'm not letting you go Harry," Draco's voice whispered in his ear. "I'm never letting you go."

They kissed harder then, reaffirming words they had spoken so many times in the past several months of trial and change. Harry was able to fall asleep then, with his arms holding tight to the one thing in the world that he now knew would never change on him.

As was usual Harry awoke before anyone else in his room, did his morning yoga, showered, dressed, and instead of waking Draco or any of his other roommates he left Slytherin to walk. His muscles had some remaining tension from the Cruciatus Curse, and Harry was determined to work it out.

It was the last day of term. After breakfast the students would all pile onto the Hogwarts Express. The Durmstrang Ship and Beauxbatons Carriage were scheduled to leave just before the train, returning the foreign visitors to their own homes.

The night before Dumbledore had given his usual parting speech, only he had told all the students of the return of Voldemort, despite a direct command from Minister Fudge to the contrary. There was no House Cup, and a moment of silence was held to hope for Cedric's recovery. Part of Harry did not want to return Hogwarts the next year, with Dumbledore and the Minister at such odds.

It was clear that despite his tendencies towards manipulation and subterfuge, Dumbledore was no Slytherin. There were so many ways to face this situation. He could have publicly bowed to the Minister, and then worked in secrecy to fight the growing threat. There was no dishonor in being sneaky, in holding your cards close.

" 'Arry!"

He turned and saw Fleur walking towards him, Victor not far behind. He had not seen either of them outside of large crowds since the Task. He found it hard to believe only a few days had passed.

The three of them went to the quidditch pitch and climbed the stands to sit, Fleur between the two boys, looking down where the maze had been, already dismantled by the professors.

"I'm sorry Fleur," Victor spoke first, his face pale and his eyes down. "I should not haf cursed you. I should haf..."

The French girl shook her head, blond hair floating on a light breeze. She put a hand on Victor's arm. "You were under zee Imperious Curse Victor. Zer was not you could do."

"Just practice fighting it," Harry added, knowing Victor needed something to atone for his actions, whether or not he was in control of them. "Think of the concentration you need to catch the snitch, and work on strength of mind."

The Bulgarian nodded slowly, thoughtfully, and Fleur turned to Harry.

"Vill you be okay?"

"Yeah," Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. I was just hoping it would be later, like when I was fifty maybe."

He laughed lightly, and the others laughed with him. He felt a kinship with them, a connection through shared hardship.

"Is der any vord on Diggory?" Victor asked Harry.

He knew what he was truly asking, and knew that Fleur was just as curious. The full story had not been revealed to anyone outside of those who Harry first told. All the rest of the school knew was that Cedric had been cursed by Voldemort just before he escaped.

Harry shook his head. He talked in a whisper, almost afraid to admit the truth to himself. "I don't think there's much hope. Voldemort cast the killing curse, but Cedric was just touching the portkey so he only was hit by part of it. I think... it's just taking longer..."

There was silence then, and Fleur sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief that she had conjured with a slight flick of her wand.

"It's not right." Victor was adamant.

Harry, however, was still a little wrung out. He sighed deeply, "It never is."

"Promise you vill write me," Fleur demanded of both of them. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my English."

Victor just nodded and Harry whistled, holding out his arm. Moments later Hedwig appeared and landed, hooting softly at him.

"Hedwig, this is Victor and Fleur," Harry spoke to his bird, much to the amusement of the other two Champions. "You'll be visiting them both. We go home today, so head back to the Manor whenever."

Hedwig hooted again and hopped to rest on first Fleur, and then Victor's shoulders, nipping them each lightly before taking flight and returning to the owlery.

"Do you know where you want to work?" Harry asked Fleur, opting for as light a subject as he could come up with just then. He didn't feel right asking Victor about his invitation for Hermione to visit him that summer.

Fleur shook her head, "I was thinking ze Ministry, but now..."

Victor grunted and Harry nodded his agreement. "When you have an idea, write to me. My family has friends just about everywhere. I'll put in a good word for you."

Her smile was brilliant and Harry felt just a twinge of the legendary Veela allure, but was able to shake it off and return her smile with his own.

"You vill both come see me play?" Victor questioned and Harry and Fleur both grinned at him, readily agreeing. War or not, it was _quidditch,_ and Victor was the best Seeker in the world.

They parted ways and Harry had a quiet breakfast, the Slytherins easily picking up that he did not want to talk. He glanced up at the staff table more than once. Harry had wanted to speak with Severus before he left, and maybe get in a good duel, but his Head of House had been conspicuously absent from his office and quarters. He couldn't help but speculate what the man was up to.

On board the Hogwarts Express Harry and Draco managed to get a compartment for themselves, at least for a time, thanks to the corridor monitoring of their fellow Slytherins. Draco sat looking out the window, while Harry stretched out on his seat and rested with his head in Draco's lap. They were silent for at least the first thirty minutes of the trip, and then they started strategizing.

"The majority of Slytherin will have to be against me next year."

"Those that don't have parents in the Death Eaters would be intimidated or just wouldn't want to risk siding with you against the rest of the House."

"That includes you."

Silence stretched out before them again as they both turned over the possibilities in their heads. Neither young Slytherin bothered to rage against the inevitable. They were realists, and knew that they would have to adapt to the situation or the situation would kill them, or at least hurt them severely.

"Shall we then?"

"Indeed." Draco imitated his godfather, causing them both to grin.

Harry sat up and pulled the blond head to him, getting his last taste of those lips for a long time. He would not see Draco for months, nor hear from him unless they managed a way to pass messages through Severus. Almost feverishly they pressed against each other, trying to feel every bit of the other all at once, hands roughly parting robes and seeking out skin.

Breathing hard they parted, eyes communicating what voices could not.

_At least they both were disheveled and flushed_, Harry told himself. It would lend credence to their story.

Their door opened onto the corridor with a bang, sure to attract an audience.

"You can go to hell Draco Malfoy!"

"You first," Draco smirked his trademark smirk reserved normally for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. "The Dark Lord will get all the Mudblood lovers like you Potter. Oops, wait, Diggory was first –"

Harry didn't give him a chance to finish. He flung out a curse that knocked Draco back into the compartment they just left, which also had cushioning charms placed in preparation for their 'fight'. Vince and Greg came running and Harry pointed his wand at them, breathing hard and shaking. He could hear the Weasley twins approaching from behind him.

"Stay away from me if you know what's good for you," Harry hissed at them venomously, his tone disguising the true feeling behind his warning.

"Harry mate?" George's spoke before he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, very wisely too. If he had startled Harry he might have ended up really cursed. Harry had worked himself up for this.

Greg stepped towards him, confused, but Vince held him back. Pansy slipped past the twins and brushed by Harry, close enough for him to pass a note to her with the countercurse to revive Draco, while seeming to shove her away from him.

Harry let the twins lead him back to the compartment that Neville, Hermione, Ginny, Brie, and the Weasel were sitting in. He slumped on a seat as the twins explained the altercation they had seen. Weasel's face turned red at the word 'Mudblood' but the others looked confused.

"Harry," Brie tried to speak calmly, "why did you curse Draco?"

"Why did he curse him!" Weasel shrieked, ready to go on one of his tirades about all Slytherins being evil or something along those lines.

Harry couldn't take it, couldn't listen to the bigoted tripe about to spew forth. He stood and stormed past his friends (and the Weasel), snapping on his way out of the compartment, "Why do you think I cursed him?"

It was hard to find a quiet spot on the train. Word had spread of his fight and everyone wanted to talk to him, whether to question or congratulate, and it just made Harry sick. He was parting with Draco for months and that was the way they had to do it, just to protect Draco from his father's associates.

Finally, Harry ended up at the very end of the train, in a compartment where the window was open and the air was rushing in. Maybe it was stuck, and so no one wanted to sit there, but he didn't care, just so he could get some peace.

It didn't last for long. Two seventh year Slytherins found him, the prefects of that year, about to enter the world and all it held for them. Harry snorted at his cynical, sarcastic thoughts.

"My immediate family members aren't supporters," the girl, from the Breckenridge family, informed him.

The boy was a McMillan, distantly related to a Hufflepuff of Harry's year, "My branch of the family supports, but were never Marked."

They sat down with him, and McMillan produced a pack of Snape's special cigarettes, offering one to the girl, who accepted, and then to Harry. He looked at him questioningly. He was breaking Snape's rules, as Harry wasn't actually in fifth year yet, but the older boy just shrugged.

"I think we can make an exception this once."

Harry took one and lit it with the end of his wand, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes as he felt a mild calming sensation, less than a potion but still good, "Thanks."

They all sat and smoked for a bit, not talking.

"You're not alone Harry," Breckenridge stubbed out the end of her cigarette and flicked the butt out the window.

McMillan took a light drag. "We take Professor Snape seriously you know. Even after we leave Hogwarts Slytherin is your family. You've got a big family out there for you."

"Even if it's a family that fights like hell sometimes," Breckenridge smirked in true Slytherin fashion.

Harry smiled then, his first genuine, free smile since the Third Task. It was true, he and his siblings could fight hammer and tongs at times, seemingly hell bent on destroying each other, but when it came down to it they were family and they loved each other.

"Guess I'm the black sheep huh?" Harry said with not a little amusement. He inhaled deeply and felt that calming vapor pervade him.

He was answered with smiles, and McMillan tossed the still nearly full pack in his lap. "Keep it. I can get some more easily."

Both Hogwarts graduates left him then, and Harry smiled again around the slim stub in his mouth. He withdrew it and figured it was pretty much done for before flicking it out the window like Breckenridge had. The potential litter dissolved into nothingness on the wind and Harry smiled again. It figured that Snape had some sort of charm on them to prevent the use of the world as a rubbish bin for his product.

The train slowed and pulled into the station, but Harry stayed in his compartment for a bit. He had to wait to get his trunk from the compartment Draco was in. After a few moments Harry walked back up the train, skirting around students lugging their trunks through the corridors. He got his trunk from the compartment he started the trip in and carried it out onto the platform.

Harry spotted his family easily, as they stood next to the Weasleys. He was subjected to more hugs than he had ever received on any one day ever before, including some from girls he barely knew.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Narcissa Malfoy speaking quietly with Draco, but he looked away. It wouldn't do to give up the game now.

"Ready to go?" Sirius asked him.

Harry just nodded and held out a hand to touch the portkey his father was holding out. Once all the Potters and miscellaneous family members had a finger on the paperweight and a hand on each trunk, James Potter tapped the weight with his wand and they all felt the tug behind their navel.

Harry landed in the front room of Potter Manor and looked around as if he expected the room had changed in the past several months that he had been away from it. Oddly, there wasn't a thing out of place, not one change to his home, but it still felt off.

Perhaps it was Harry who changed. Enough had happened that year to effect some changes. He sighed and made sure he had his own trunk and not his sister's, but before he could charm it follow him up to his room there was a disturbance in the air and he knew another portkey had been activated to bring someone to Potter Manor.

"What the fuck?"

"Harry James Potter watch your language!"

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	51. Chapter 51

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**Chapter Fifty-One**

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"This is truly weird."

Harry nodded, not quite yet having grasped what was going on. He sat on his bed and held out an arm in invitation, which was all Draco needed to join him and lean against his shoulder.

"What in the name of Merlin were our fathers thinking?" Harry was trying to wrap his mind around this latest development. Even the thought of James Potter and Lucius Malfoy collaborating on something was mind-boggling. The fact that Lucius had trusted his only child, his heir, to the Potters for a span of months was highly strange.

Draco blew out a breath and flopped back on the bed, "I know what Father was thinking. He doesn't want me anywhere near the Dark Lord."

Nodding, Harry didn't bother to argue the title Draco used. He knew Draco had been raised to see Riddle that way, but it still didn't make it right. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion that Lucius Malfoy no longer saw things that way, not if his latest actions proved anything.

"Do you think... your father...," Harry didn't even think he could voice the possibility. It was almost more than he could hope for. He twisted around to look at Draco.

"I have no idea what goes through his mind Harry, but Mother...," Draco looked Harry in the eye. "She told me to follow my heart."

Harry had a feeling his expression would have been comical in any other situation as his eyes felt like they might just fall out of his head. He got a hold of himself and started to nod. It made some sense. After all, Severus knew about them, and he was close to the Malfoys, and might have said something in the privacy of Malfoy Manor, if for no other reason to nudge the Malfoys towards supporting Harry. After all, if their only son was attached to him...

"Bloody Slytherin...," Harry breathed, and Draco smirked.

"Didn't your father want to talk to you?" Draco questioned him, and Harry remembered the talk in the front room.

"Feel free to use whatever space you want," Harry said and gestured around his room. "The wardrobe is self-expanding, as is the bookshelf. There's a broom rack in the closet."

Draco sat up and gave him a quick peck on the lips, "You realize what this all means you know?"

"Mmm," Harry hummed against the blonde's lips. "Parental sanctioned bed sharing all summer, what could be better?"

"Finding a way to keep your countless siblings from barging in here when we're busy?"

"It was a rhetorical question."

"I know," Draco was wearing a self-satisfied grin. "Get out of here before your father comes to save you from the evil wicked Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes but left obediently, part of him wondering if he was dreaming this up. He thought of all the possible reasons for Lucius Malfoy to decide to deposit his son with the Potters for the summer, and came up with far too many. Lucius was cunning and influential, the ideal Slytherin, and bowing to Voldemort, kneeling to kiss the hem of his robes, couldn't sit well with the man.

Knocking on the door to his father's study, Harry waited patiently for his father to tell him to enter. Harry stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, which sealed with an automatic Imperturbable Charm.

"Have a seat Harry," James Potter gestured to one of the chairs. He was sitting by the fireplace, rather than at his desk. They were the only ones there, so at least it wasn't one of the 'adults and Harry only' conferences to scold him for whatever he did wrong that year.

"Why is Draco here?" Harry automatically asked, as it was the subject on his mind at the moment.

James sighed and shook his head, "Lucius came to my office at the Ministry yesterday and requested sanctuary for Draco for the summer. He said he does not want his son exposed to his associates this summer."

Harry nodded, face blank as he considered that reasoning. It was only partial, of course. There were dozens of places Draco could have been sent. Narcissa could have taken him abroad for the summer, a practice not uncommon with the elite of the wizarding world. Lucius was laying the ground for something. Either he would interrogate Draco for information at a later date, or he would betray his master.

"Harry."

He looked up, "Yeah Dad?"

"That's not the reason I wanted to talk to you." James leaned back in his chair. "You know about the Order of course. We started meeting again this year, after that mess at the World Cup." Harry nodded, having figured as much. It was logical. "The meetings are being held here, so the Manor is going to have a lot of people coming and going this summer. The Weasleys will all stay here several nights I'm sure."

Harry groaned, "Not the Weasel." Then he grimaced, having slipped in front of his father. "Draco and Ron Weasley do not get along by any stretch of the imagination." He of course neglected to tell his father that he didn't particularly get along with him either.

"Well, you can just do your best to keep them apart," James said with little sympathy. Harry guessed that his mother had her hands full keeping Sirius and Severus apart, and James often got pulled into the fray.

Harry felt like grumbling, but saved his breath. He was lucky that Draco was there, and if dealing with Weasel was the price he had to pay, so be it.

"You could have told me that anytime Dad," Harry said perceptively, deciding to cut right to the heart of whatever his father had asked him there for. "Why did you need to talk to me here?"

"Harry...," James Potter looked distinctly uncomfortable and Harry braced himself for whatever it was his father was going to say. "What happened after the Third Task... it's the kind of thing we train Aurors for, the kind of thing we trained you for, but it still is a traumatic experience. Often after a first battle, or after the first time an Auror kills, they see the counselor we have on staff..."

"A bit too late for that Dad," Harry interrupted bitterly. He had felt a growing anger throughout his father's rushed speech, coming from somewhere inside that he didn't even know existed. "Shouldn't you have thought of that after Quirrell?"

His father looked like Harry had struck him, "We all talked about that Harry. We thought you were okay."

"That's why you sent me off to the Dursleys and didn't even try to find out why I wasn't writing." Harry suddenly realized this was the first time he had ever argued with his father, the first time he ever let himself get angry in Potter Manor.

"You think we didn't care." James looked hurt, and Harry hated that he was the cause. James leaned forward, as if to provide emphasis to his words. "Harry... you only wrote us a handful of times all that year. We had wards, all around the Dursley property, to tell us if you were in any kind of trouble. After what they did, did you actually think we would just leave you there without any sort of protection?"

"I didn't know what to think!" Harry snapped back at his father. "I was eleven years old. You've trained me like an Auror but I was just a kid!" His father didn't answer, and there was no answer Harry could think of that would make any sort of difference. He just shook his head, "I don't want to see your counselor."

"Harry –"

"No!" Harry said with more authority than he knew he could. "I have enough people here to talk to if I need it. There's no need to go see some stranger."

James closed his eyes briefly and leaned back in his seat again, "Fine Harry."

"Why didn't you try to get me out of competing this year?" Harry asked his father, curious. He hadn't expected his parents to succeed in getting him out of the Tournament, but he had at least expected them to try.

James rubbed his face. He looked weary, and Harry knew it would only get worse. The war had only just begun. "We never expected something like this to happen. To be exempt from the Underage Magic Usage laws you and your siblings were declared adults when you were born. You may not share this with your brothers and sisters, but all of you are fully capable of signing contracts, getting jobs, or even marrying without our approval." Harry's eyebrows shot up and his father gave him a small smile. "I trust you will not abuse this privilege?"

Harry shook his head, assuring his father he wouldn't take advantage of the situation or let his siblings know about it. They sat in silence for a few moments and Harry wondered if their conversation was over and he could leave. The young Slytherin wanted nothing more right then than to get back to his room, to Draco. He had no such luck.

"There are several new house rules for this summer Harry..."

His father went over the rules that most of his siblings had heard already. Apparently Remus was going over them with Brie, and it was Harry's responsibility to tell Draco. It was stricter than even the summer before Harry's third year, and he wondered if his parents would soon declare that he could no longer leave his room or speak to anyone outside of family. Each new rule made him more and more irritated, and the final one was just too much.

"What do you mean I can't be at the Order meetings?" Harry argued.

"You're too young Harry –"

"So I'm too young to sit in on some meetings, but not too young to duel with Voldemort?" Harry had jumped to his feet. He was getting angry again and felt his magic building up, but simply directed it to control the small fire in the grate.

"Only fully qualified, of age wizards are allowed to join the Order Harry," James explained patiently, giving his son a sharp look. The older man managed to ignore the elemental magic. "Even if Dumbledore made an exception for you, I would not allow it."

Harry felt this desperate rebellious surge within. His father would not _allow_ it? He had just finished telling Harry that he was an adult in law, but then told him he was too young to know what was going on in the war.

"Dad," Harry tried to take the logical, Slytherin route. He calmed himself and spoke clearly, coolly, "we both know what the prophecy says and what it means. I have a responsibility in this war. How am I supposed to fulfill it if you don't give me the information I need?"

James leveled a glare his way, "You are far from ready for that Harry –" Harry tried to agree with his father, but before he could speak his father held up a hand. Obediently, Harry held his tongue. "No one even knows how Voldemort can be killed. Let us work on that for now Harry."

There were times when arguing with James Potter was a futile endeavor. Every one of the Potters was extremely stubborn, and Harry knew, based on his father's tone and body language, that he was not going to budge on this one.

His face fixed in a scowl, somewhat reminiscent of Severus if he had looked in a mirror, Harry swept out of his father's study. He wouldn't lower himself by arguing further, but he was not happy with the outcome of the conversation. Why had his father even bothered to have him trained if he wasn't going to let him utilize the training? Fighting wasn't all Harry was good for. Remus had been teaching him history and strategy since he could grasp the concepts.

Not paying any attention to his surroundings, Harry nearly collided with his godfather as he stalked back towards his room.

"Woah, Cub, what's got you looking like Snape after a run-in with your Dad and me?" Sirius chuckled, clearly trying to break Harry's mood.

He only partially succeeded. Harry stopped brooding, but he was still angry, "Dad."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, grinning like there was nothing wrong. What would have earned him a punch in the face from Snape, got a small smile from Harry. He knew that Sirius wasn't making light of his problems, only trying to make him happy. "What did Prongs do?"

Harry let it all spill out, the ridiculously restrictive rules, and worst of all, his exclusion from the Order. He was going to be on a tighter leash at home than he was at school, and that was just wrong. The worst part of it all was that Harry felt his father didn't trust him.

"He's willing to wait three years before I reach some arbitrary age of adulthood while Voldemort kills everyone he can aim his wand at! You've all been training me since I could walk and speak, and now he won't let me do what I've been training for. Does he have any faith in me?" Harry couldn't help the way his voice sounded at the end, like he was a small child still, even though his voice had changed his second year.

Sirius pulled him into a rough hug, "He does Cub. We all know you'll come out on top of this one."

"Then why Siri?" Harry wanted desperately to know what it was about him that was lacking, why he wasn't being allowed to end the war before too many people died. He gripped Sirius tightly.

"How many times have you nearly died Harry?" Sirius broke their hug and held Harry at arm's length. His voice was tense, like he was holding back on the emotion that wanted to break through. "James loves you Harry. He just doesn't want to lose you."

Harry scowled again, "So he's willing to sacrifice who knows how many people to hold onto me just a little longer?"

"Of course he is Cub," Sirius told him, like Harry was thick or something. "He's your father. He was willing to sacrifice his own life for yours when you were a baby, and he'd do the same now if he had to."

Swallowing deeply, Harry looked down at the floor, a bit ashamed of himself. He really couldn't fault his parents for trying to protect him, but there was a point where they wouldn't be able to anymore, and he knew it was getting close. Harry knew, with sudden clarity, that it would be his parents who had the hardest time with Harry's destiny.

"I'll talk to Prongs and see what I can do," Sirius reassured him, though Harry knew he would get nowhere. "I happen to agree with you Harry. You deserve to know what's going on; you need to know."

"Thanks Siri," Harry gave his godfather a lopsided smile, eternally grateful for the man before him.

"Head back to your room Cub," Sirius ruffled his hair, grinning again. He shook his head, as though completely bewildered, "A Malfoy in Potter Manor. What's the world coming to?"

Harry felt his own mischievous smirk forming, "We've already got a Black, why not a Malfoy?"

Sirius's jaw dropped, and he stood there in disbelief at being compared to a Malfoy, _any_ Malfoy, and Harry just kept smirking. He left his godfather still gobsmacked and returned to his room at least victorious in one thing. As he opened his door he remembered his other victory. He wouldn't be allowed to attend the Order meetings, but at least he didn't have to see a counselor.

JAMES was glaring at the fire when Sirius poked his head into the study, "Is it dead yet Prongsie?"

His fellow Marauder whipped around and dropped his glare when he saw Sirius. He took in a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands.

Sirius examined his best friend as he closed the door and took the seat that Harry had probably been sitting in. The stress of the last few years was showing. James's dark hair was beginning to silver, but only if you looked hard for the scattered strands. His face showed lines on the forehead from being creased in deep thought far too often.

"Am I losing him Padfoot?" James looked at Sirius like he had all the answers in the world.

Sirius shrugged and summoned the firewhiskey from the cabinet in the corner. He poured for both of them, even though it was nearly dinner time and Lily would get at them for drinking so early.

"He's a teenager Prongs," Sirius said as if that explained everything, and perhaps it did. "When I was his age I was getting ready to run away from home and rebelling against my family every opportunity I had. You were sneaking out at night to meet me in London and arguing with your parents all the time. I think you were grounded almost the entire summer before fifth year. We were both of us tormenting Snivelly and pulling pranks left and right.

"Harry can prank with the best of them, but it isn't his style," Sirius sighed, somewhat wistful. It would have been so much easier to have a Gryffindor godson who loved pranking people, instead of his serious Slytherin, but he loved Harry for who he was. "Would you rather he sneak out at night to party with his friends, or bully some hapless Hufflepuff?"

"No," James said firmly and quickly, "but it has worse consequences for him than it did for us."

Sirius started laughing, "And he knows that James. Harry's a Slytherin, not a foolish Gryffindor like you and me. Sure he rushes into danger, but always to save someone else, and he always has a plan."

James just shook his head and combed his fingers through his hair, mussing it like he always did in school. He looked moments away from tears, "I can't bury my son Sirius. It's been so close, so many times, and I don't think I can take it."

Sirius gripped his best friend's shoulder and stared him in the eye, "You can James, and you may have to. You have a family that needs you, and Harry has a prophecy to fulfill. We've always known he'll be in the thick of things, and that his chances of surviving this war are not good."

"I know –"

"Then give him what he needs to survive James," Sirius pushed, knowing that his friend wouldn't give in, but he had promised Harry that he would try. "No one expects him to go on missions or anything, but he's already faced Voldemort in some incarnation four times, more than any of us except Albus. Withholding information from him will only put him in more danger."

"Or keep him from rushing out and getting himself killed," James met his stare and did not give any ground. "He is not ready Sirius."

Sirius let James go and shook his head. He stood, hearing Lily call out that dinner was ready, her voice amplified to reach everyone in the Manor, "I think maybe it's you that's not ready James."

James just set his jaw and refused to answer, but the tension between the friends was thick. They both started to leave for the dining room, when the fireplace flared. Only a small group of people had access to that fire, and most of them were in the Manor already.

"Albus," James turned and addressed the Headmaster's head in the flames. "We're about to start dinner. Is it important?"

Albus nodded and sighed deeply, "I was just speaking with Pomona Sprout. She's been at St. Mungo's with the Diggorys since the end of the term, as Cedric's Head of House." Sirius bit his lower lip, guessing at the information coming. "Cedric died this afternoon. His memorial will be held in five days time, and Amos would like Harry to act as a pallbearer."

"He will," James answered for his son. "I'm sorry Albus. I know we were all hoping he would pull through somehow."

There was no answer, merely a sad nod, and Albus's head disappeared from the fire.

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	52. Chapter 52

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**Chapter Fifty-Two**

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Harry looked in the mirror and frowned. He had never been to a memorial before, but everyone in the wizarding world had the appropriate robes hidden away somewhere in the back of their wardrobe. They only had to be purchased once, as they were charmed to adjust as the wizard or witch in question grew, and they were very expensive as a result. Harry had never worn his before.

"You look fine," Draco was wearing casual robes, as he couldn't show at the memorial. He would stay behind in the Manor, with a handful of Order members who insisted on being there just in case the resident Malfoy started to reflect his heritage. The Slytherin was planning on shutting himself in Harry's room and working on his Arithmancy homework.

"I know," Harry adjusted the snow white robes yet again. He couldn't describe how he felt, as it was more than guilt. He was touched at the trust and confidence the Diggorys had for him, but Harry didn't think he deserved it.

Draco hugged him from behind and kissed him lightly on the side of his neck, "You didn't kill Diggory; the Dark Lord did. Do not take the fault on yourself."

Harry sighed.

"Go," Draco stepped back and gave Harry a gentle shove towards the door. "You have to be there early."

"Thank you."

Draco smiled at him, acknowledging that the thanks were for much more than helping him get ready for the memorial. All week he had woken when Harry did, held him after the nightmares, and made no demands to talk about what haunted him in his sleep. Harry hadn't felt like fooling around much, and Draco didn't push.

Leaving his boyfriend in his room, Harry headed downstairs to meet the rest of his family, all of them dressed in the white robes, hair unbound, feet encased in soft brown sandals that did little more than protect them from rocks and sticks.

Tonks was in the room, lounging on a chair and talking with Bill Weasley, who had transferred to the London Gringotts from Egypt. He was working on a warding team, the other side of a cursebreaker's job, and was more available to the Order. Harry had put Fleur in touch with the eldest Weasley, and she was working at Gringotts with him.

Moody had volunteered, but Snape had argued that it was hardly fair to have the man who imprisoned Draco's father once be the one to watch him. For once, Snape had won. It hadn't hurt that he had Harry's support.

"Everyone ready?" Remus asked the room, and then nodded decisively when he received affirmative answers. "The portkey is set to activate in two minutes, so gather around."

Harry's parents were each holding one of the twins, and directed them to touch the muggle record that was cracked on one side. Ten hands touched the portkey, and soon after they were pulled away to the Diggory family burial grounds.

There was a large monument in the center, with the Diggory family animal, a grasshopper, signifying nobility and prosperity, perched atop an orb that was at the top of an obelisk. Headstones spiraled out from the monument, generations of Diggorys.

"Harry," Amos Diggory, his face haggard and drawn, greeted him and gave him a brief hug, "Cedric wanted you to known he doesn't blame you – none of us do. He said you would be blaming yourself."

Harry swallowed again and nodded. He wouldn't lie or dissemble here. Lord Diggory, as Amos was head of the family and would use his title on that day if on no other, directed Harry to a group of Cedric's cousins, which included Penelope Clearwater, who had graduated from Ravenclaw the year before. The only one Harry recognized, he nodded to her and introduced himself to everyone there.

It was rare from someone outside immediate family, no further than second cousin, to be selected as a pallbearer, unless at the request of the deceased. To turn down the honor was one of the worst insults in the wizarding world.

Before long there was crowd of over two hundred, all of them in the same white robes. All the wizarding families that were openly 'light' were present, along with many families that were neutral and even a few that practiced the darker side of magic. Several muggle-borns were there from Hufflepuff, all of them escorted by purebloods to guide them in any traditions they might not know. The entire faculty of Hogwarts was there, and Harry wondered briefly how Hogwarts was being protected.

An open platform carriage, thestral pulled, brought the coffin to the burial ground, and the pallbearers positioned themselves around it. As a non-family member Harry was at the rear of the procession.

Wands were not used. The coffin was charmed, and only needed the focused energy of the pallbearers to float it to its grave.

The ceremony was all in Gaelic, as the Diggorys were one of the old Irish families. As Amos spoke the formal words, and the coffin lowered, Harry concentrated and called a light, misting rain. It was seen as a sign that the deceased was missed by even the gods if the heavens wept at a memorial. The belief was seen as superstition in those times, but deep within, Harry knew the Diggorys would see the rain as a blessing on Cedric.

Amos Diggory's final incantation over his son's grave filled the hole with earth and covered it with heather. Lady Diggory wept, and was supported on each side by her parents. Cedric's older sister and her husband stood behind them and she ghosted a hand over the prominent bulge of her pregnancy, almost hidden by the flowing robes. His younger sister, who looked the same age as Alex, stood near her mother, looking lost.

The Manor was opened to all the mourners, and Harry found himself on the receiving end of many strange looks. They were not hateful looks, blaming him for Cedric's death, but were rather wary... cautious. He had no idea what was going on.

"Harry dear," Lady Diggory, Catherine as she asked Harry to call her, pulled him aside after the receiving line ended. She handed him a pouch, which he wanted to refuse, but couldn't without insulting her. "Cedric said he would not have made it as far as he did in the Tournament without you. He wanted you to have his winnings."

"Cedric helped me as well," Harry felt he had to explain, had to let her know what her son had accomplished. "In the maze...," Harry paused. He hadn't spoken of the Third Task in any detail since that night. "Crouch Jr. had Victor Krum under the Imperious Curse, and he cast the Cruciatus on Fleur Delacour." Catherine's eyes widened in horror. "Cedric and I found Fleur and sent up the sparks to get her out. He ran into Krum later, and he was hit by the curse too, but we took him down together. I know everyone saw what happened with the Acromantula. I... I tired to get him out of there as quickly as I could, but Voldemort saw what was happening, and he cast the curse... I was too late.

"He... Cedric was honorable, and loyal – everything a Hufflepuff should be and more," Harry felt a prickling at the corner of his eyes and let a few tears fall. To hold them back would be inappropriate. Catherine Diggory was crying freely. "I am honored that I got to know him this year."

"Thank you Harry," Catharine left him and went to her husband, speaking to him softly. Amos glanced in his direction and nodded once.

Those odd looks continued throughout the day, and few people spoke to him, which was a severe change from any other time Harry had shown his face in public. Something was different... and it bothered him that he didn't know.

"What is going on?" Harry found Remus standing by a wall alone. As a known werewolf, he was not the most desirable partner for conversation at any gathering. "Do I smell bad or something?"

Harry tried to keep it light, but the attitude of the crowd was seriously disturbing him.

"Mmm," Remus's golden eyes darted around the large room. "Not here Harry – we'll discuss this at home."

Harry clenched his jaw. His family knew that something strange was happening, and no one had said a word to him. He knew there had been an Order meeting the night before, could hardly miss the influx of people in his home and large number of guests at dinner, and it had brought back his anger with his father for excluding him.

"I'd like to leave as soon as propriety allows," Harry spoke in an undertone so no one heard. He could feel eyes on him, and not in the usual way. It was making his skin crawl and he had to focus his anxiety outside, making the mist a steady rainfall.

Remus just placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, giving his silent support, for which Harry was grateful. The werewolf, in contradiction to his affliction, was always a calming influence on Harry and his siblings. Considering the presence of Sirius in the Manor, it was a good thing Remus was so sedate.

Surreptitiously checking the food for harmful curses, poisons, or the influence of the Weasley twins, who were somewhere in the crowd, Harry ate a light meal, not able to stomach more. He flattened his hair over his forehead, kept his head down, and floated on the fringes of the conversations, picking up snatches here and there, willing everyone there to ignore him.

"...says it was You-Know-Who, back from the dead..."

"...Parselmouth, can you believe..."

"...I never trusted those..."

"...dark to the core..."

"...he is a Slytherin after all..."

"...know one _really_ knows what happened..."

"...what effect does a curse scar really have..."

His stomach turned and Harry regretted the small amount of food he ate. He had a strong suspicion of what Remus would tell him at the Manor, and recalled that he hadn't seen the Daily Prophet all week. Anger flared up again, this time at the whole cadre of 'adults' in Potter Manor. He wondered if they actually thought they could hide something like this from him.

Harry easily found Remus and gave him a look to communicate that he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. Remus had the grace to look somewhat sheepish.

It was another hour before the Potters could gracefully leave without insulting the Diggorys. They made sure they were not the first to go, and they stopped at the door to the hall that everyone was gathered in, to pay their final respects to the Diggorys.

"We are so sorry for your loss," James Potter, as Head of the Family Potter, spoke to Amos Diggory, Head of the Family Diggory.

"Thank you for coming today," Amos responded. The same ritual was carried out with Remus and Sirius, who could not be claimed as members of the Family Potter, as much as everyone involved might wish otherwise.

Formal words exchanged, the Potters, Remus, and Sirius started to leave, but Amos stopped them, or more specifically, he stopped Harry.

"Thank you Harry, for helping send Cedric to the next adventure," Amos's voice was strong, even though his pain was deep. His next words he spoke louder than necessary, with the full weight of his position as Head of Family, "I am behind you fully Harry, as is my Family."

Harry bowed in thanks, "I am honored, Lord Diggory."

It was less ten minutes later that Harry was back in his room, stripping off his white robe and storing it away for what he hoped was a long time, but what he knew in his heart would be a span of months, if that. With so many people in and out of his home, he could not lounge about unclad, as much as he wished to, but he would be damned if his home became less than that to him.

Draco was immersed in Arithmancy, and Harry left him to it. The blond had only looked up when he entered, and gave a brief kiss before going back to his calculations. Harry, clad in only a pair of loose shorts and short sleeved cotton shirt, went to find Remus and get the truth out of him.

"The way it is Harry...," James Potter stumbled over the words as Harry sat still, gazing expectantly at his parents and two uncles. Father and son were on shaky ground, Harry determined to be treated as an adult, and James refusing to accept that he could not always protect his son.

"Fudge is a moron," Sirius grumbled, and Harry just raised an eyebrow, wondering if he had managed to get the expression right. "He insists that Voldemort is dead, that Dumbledore is after his job, and that you are an attention seeking liar. Oh, and you're supposed to be mentally deficient as well."

"There are little things in the _Prophet_," James sighed and Harry tried to ignore the sadness in his father's eyes. "There is some incredible story, which they say is 'a tale worthy of Harry Potter' or someone makes an outrageous claim and they call him 'the next Harry Potter'. It is too early to sue for slander, and frankly, the courts would probably toss out the claim. Fudge has a good portion of the Wizengamot under his thumb."

Harry knew that Fudge had been too afraid to believe that Voldemort was back. He knew that Dumbledore was going ahead anyway and trying to warn the wizarding world of the danger they faced. What he had never thought of was them using Harry himself as their personal political weapon.

He scowled, "So Dumbledore is constantly using my name as proof that Voldemort is back, and Fudge is trying to discredit me in order to discredit Dumbledore?"

"That's just about it," Remus sighed, and Harry noticed that they were all tired, a little strung out. He wondered what Dumbledore had them all doing, and his irritation surged up once more with the knowledge that no one would tell him.

"And let me guess," Harry said with a just a touch of bitterness, "there is nothing I can do to prevent them from using me as the rope in their political tug-of-war."

The looks exchanged were the only answer Harry needed.

"Harry –"

"I don't want to hear it Padfoot," Harry snapped as he stood up. He didn't want to listen to any placations or false assurances. Harry was intelligent enough to know it was going to worse before it got better – if it ever got better.

His mother stood as well and tried to keep him from leaving, but Harry was feeling these surges of emotion that he couldn't place. He had no idea where they were coming from, why he was both angry and deeply amused. Harry just had to get out of there, had to figure out what was going on.

"No," He said before she even spoke. "None of you can see that you can't protect me anymore. I may be safe here in the Manor, but that won't last forever, and at Hogwarts I'm vulnerable, no matter how spectacular the wards are supposed to be. Why didn't anyone say anything before Cedric's memorial? If I knew why I was getting all those looks I could have dealt with the situation."

"We are bound by oaths of secrecy to the Order," Remus explained in his always calm tone. "Order business cannot be discussed with anyone outside the Order."

Harry started laughing. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "Well it seems that everything about me is Order business, since it is my responsibility to stop this war. I'm amazed you can even talk to me at all."

He stormed out of the room, ignoring the hurt looks. The lot of them were soft Gryffindors, Harry told himself somewhat viciously. They were willing to risk the fate of the world in order to preserve some nonexistent idea of his innocence. His bedroom door slammed shut behind him and Draco looked up from his Arithmancy.

"It didn't go well then?"

Laughter burst out of him again, rough and somewhat wild. The draperies on the window were lifted by a sudden wind and the bedcovers were tossed onto the floor. Draco set down his quill and crossed the room swiftly. He shook Harry by the shoulders, and when the laughter settled down the wind followed, and he held Harry close.

Harry breathed deeply, concentrating on each breath, trying to regain some control over himself, over the elements. He needed focus, needed to reel in his power and find out what was causing these extreme fluctuations.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Eloquent Draco," Harry was calm once more. He flicked his wand to set the room back to rights and stretched out on his bed. Draco sat beside him and rubbed his back in a slow, soothing motion. "And I don't know. Something is making me more volatile, taking away my inhibitions." He buried his face in the duvet. "I can't believe I just yelled at my parents."

Draco snorted out laughter, a light and free sound, especially in comparison to the laugh that Harry had been unable to stop earlier.

"You're a teenager Harry," Draco had to be grinning, a sight that few ever saw. "All teenagers are moody and angry and snap at authority figures. It's our right, our duty as teens to make our parents' lives as difficult as we can."

"But I don't want to," Harry rolled over and looked up at Draco, whose hand was now making small circles on Harry's stomach. Draco slipped his hand under Harry's shirt and continued. "They have enough to worry about, to deal with. Yes, I want to know what's going on – I think if anyone has a right to know what Voldemort is doing I do – but it's Dumbledore who runs the Order, and Fudge who's mucking about with the press."

Draco lifted his eyebrows, "What does Fudge have to do with anything?"

"Smear campaign," Harry responded with a frown. "Fame is fickle. I've gone from misunderstood hero to deranged liar, and Fudge's play is working. I'll be a pariah this year."

Draco stretched out on his side beside Harry, his hand sliding up Harry's chest and lifting the shirt as he went, "Your family will be fine. You've been the prefect obedient child until now, so they weren't expecting any arguments. All children grow up, and you could never do anything like everyone else does."

The blond finally got a smile out of Harry, "I really wish I could just be like everyone else."

"I don't." Harry raised his eyebrow again. "If you were like everyone else, you wouldn't be you, and I'd miss you."

Harry lifted his head and turned onto his side, closing the space between them. He pressed their lips together and pulled Draco flush against him, rubbing their growing excitement together.

Fudge and Dumbledore could duel it out naked it public for all Harry cared. He knew what his job was, and he would get it done. If the vast majority of the wizarding world hated him in the process he would just find a way to use that to his advantage. After all, Harry Potter was a Slytherin, a survivor.

Clothing ended up scattered on the bed and Harry only barely remembered to cast the Imperturbable Charm on his room. He didn't care that he was going against the house rules. He didn't care that his parents had no clue about his relationship with Draco.

Very little concerned Harry just then, apart from the cool skin of Draco Malfoy, the grey eyes, blond hair, and the movement of Draco's body against his.

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	53. Chapter 53

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**Chapter Fifty-Three**

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"It's not just your father and mother," Sirius lounged on Harry's bed and toyed with his wand.

Harry and Draco had been working on their Potions homework, as they were certain Professor Snape would question them about it soon. They had their books and parchment spread out on the floor when Sirius came in to talk to them, and Draco was thankful that the man had picked that moment to walk in, rather than one of the many times they had taken a break to attempt to devour each other.

Ever since the day of Cedric's memorial and the revelation of Dumbledore's and Fudge's machinations, Harry had been moody and quiet, and easily distracted. His siblings had all ventured in at some point to verify he wasn't angry with them, but he had spoken no more than a few words to his parents and uncles.

Draco was getting to know the younger Potters, and decided that they were all pretty good, even if Brie and Alex were Gryffindor personified. Ian, a definite Slytherin in the making, spent more time with them than any of the others. The twins, indisputably possessed of seer talent, had a habit of knocking on the door as warning when anyone was coming to Harry's room. It had saved them from discovery more than once.

The only response Sirius got was a snort from Harry and an amused look from Draco, who was looking at this whole situation as a sign that in some ways Harry was as normal a teenager as anyone else their age. His teen rebellion was just edged with far more serious issues than usual.

Sirius stopped fiddling, "Dumbledore has decreed that no one is to give you any sensitive information, and our Oaths prevent us from going against that."

"What is Dumbledore playing at?" Draco questioned his mother's cousin. "He knows as well as anyone else that Harry is crucial to his efforts. He not only needs Harry fighting for the light, he needs Harry's support, and all he is doing is alienating him."

"Do Slytherins all sit around and come up with conspiracies?" Sirius questioned them, his tone indicating that he was not completely joking.

"Please Siri," Harry scoffed at his godfather. "The most ridiculous theories about me this year came from Gryffindor. Draco is being realistic, and he's right. I've seen Dumbledore half a dozen times this summer and he refuses to so much as look at me. Not exactly confidence inspiring is it?"

That prompted a deep sigh from Sirius and Draco hid his grin behind a book, touched that Harry stood up for him to family.

"You know I love you Cub," Sirius sounded hurt, desperate, and Harry caved somewhat, giving his godfather a small smile. "I'm doing everything I can, but your parents think you need more time to recover from the third task, and Dumbledore doesn't want you to know what we're doing."

Harry got up then and joined his godfather on the bed, "I don't blame you Siri. I just... I _need_ to know about things that affect me, and frankly, everything that Voldemort does will affect me in some way. I'm trying not act like a petulant child..."

"I know Cub," Sirius ruffled his hair and hugged him before slipping off the bed. "Give your folks a break, huh? For me? They just want you safe."

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded.

The summer continued in much the same vein. The _Daily Prophet_ continued to print ridiculous stories about Harry's supposed mental instability. They somehow even discovered the vision he had in History of Magic, but only said he was faking pains in his scar for attention.

Oddly enough, attention was something Harry wanted more of just then, but not from the newspapers and the public, and Draco had been astonished when the dark haired boy had admitted it. There was tension in the Potter house, even with improved relations between Harry and his parents. Even the twins knew there was a war brewing, and Rowan had developed a tendency to blurt out answers to questions that hadn't been asked yet.

Frequent visitors to the Manor included Neville and the Weasleys – all of them except Charlie who was still in Romania. Tonks and Kingsley had both joined the Order, but there were few members that had not been involved during the first war. Order members often spent the night, especially if a meeting ran late.

Harry's quiet wasn't even noticed by most, as there were so many people around on a regular basis. His birthday celebrations were even toned down from what Draco had been told was the usual custom at Potter Manor. According to Ian, who talked to Draco often, everyone's birthday was observed with much reveling. The prevailing mood seemed to dampen even that excitement though, and the Potters just had a special dinner with cake and presents.

Granger would be sent to the Burrow –Draco snorted inwardly once more at the name the Weasleys had so aptly given their home – in just a few days, and then they would all descend on Potter Manor for the few remaining weeks before September.

Harry had taken to meditating every day and doing his control exercises. Draco enjoyed watching, and liked the rush of power he sometimes felt from Harry when he was manipulating the elements. It was getting more and more difficult for Harry to have the privacy he needed for those exercises, so Draco acted as his guard of sorts at times, keeping people away from Harry's room.

The Floo Network became unsafe, as it was being monitored with greater vigilance by the Ministry. They assumed that Potter Manor in particular was being watched closely, so anyone who couldn't apparate had to travel there by illegal portkey, which they tried to limit, side-along apparition, or muggle means.

That was why, just after Harry's and Neville's birthdays, a group of them were walking from Potter Manor to Longbottom Hall. It was approaching dusk, and Neville was needed at home to watch his grandmother. Her memory had been getting spotty lately, and his parents simply didn't have the energy to perform their duties as Aurors, Order members, and look out for the aging woman.

"Check this out," Fred Weasley grinned as he passed a flesh colored string to Harry.

Harry tried to figure out exactly what he was supposed to be impressed with, and Draco looked over his shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Extendible Ears," George echoed his brother's grin. They had been recruited to join Harry in walking Neville home as they were both seventeen, and therefore of age. "It's our latest invention. You put one end in your ear, and the other under a door, or around a corner, or wherever you need to overhear conversation."

Draco, who was along simply to get out of the Manor however briefly, whistled his appreciation. He liked the Weasley twins, who were certainly devious and cunning enough to be Slytherins, and had ambition to spare, even if it was to open their own store rather than get some influential job at the Ministry.

"Careful who you show these to," Draco warned, his mind working overtime. "There are too many potential nefarious uses."

Harry agreed with Draco, and held out the Extendible Ear for Fred to take back, but the twins just handed him some more.

"We thought you might get some good use out of them." George handed a few to Draco as well. "We tried to listen in on Order meetings."

"But your mum spells the room Imperturbable every time," Fred lamented. "Your folks might talk about stuff in other rooms though."

Neville just shook his head at their antics, "I doubt it. James and Lily are too careful for that, Mum and Dad too."

"Sirius though," Draco was smirking broadly. He also liked his cousin, even if he was a 'blood-traitor'. "He's tricky enough that he might intentionally start up a conversation somewhere that Harry could overhear."

After passing their apparition test, the twins had taken to popping over to Potter Manor randomly, just to visit. It was on one of those surprise visits that they were let in on the secret of Harry and Draco's relationship. Their reaction had been the same as it was to everything, teasing and humor, with a brief moment of sobriety to assure Harry that they approved.

"I've been meaning to talk to you two," Harry was still inspecting the Extendible Ear, wondering exactly how it worked. "You must be pretty broke by now, what with buying materials for your pranks and all."

The twins exchanged a glance and Draco determined that they definitely had a touch of Slytherin in them. The two redheads knew exactly where Harry was going.

"We won't just take your money Harry," George preempted the offer.

Fred nodded, "We break about even by selling some of our pranks to other students."

"But you're about to leave Hogwarts," Neville pointed out, wrapping his arms across his chest.

Draco was getting goose bumps, but figured it was just getting cooler as the sun sank below the horizon. He decided to help Harry along as well, "You don't really want to work in the Ministry with your father, do you?"

They were wavering, and Harry went in for the kill, "Think of it as an investment." Fred and George exchanged another look, this time questioning. "Cedric left me his portion of the Triwizard winnings, and I don't want it, any of it."

That was the first Draco had heard of it, but he wasn't all that surprised Harry didn't say anything before. It was after the memorial that he'd had that fight with his parents. Besides which, from the perspective of the heirs to two powerful wizarding families, one thousand galleons wasn't that much money.

"Besides," Harry continued, "I think we'll all need some laughter soon."

Fred spoke for the twins, "Only as an investment Harry. You'll be our partner, and that means you get a share of the profits."

"Deal," Harry reached out to shake hands, and the twins complied.

"Is anyone else cold?" Neville asked then.

Harry halted in his tracks, his eyes widened, and it was Draco and Neville's turn to exchange glances. The twins didn't know of Harry's abilities.

"Dementors," Harry said softly, "headed this way."

"Shit." Draco didn't know which twin cursed.

Harry turned to them quickly, "The Patronus spell, it's _Expecto Patronum_, and you have to focus on happy memories, got it?" They both nodded uncertainly. "If you can't do it, use _Incendio_. Fire kills just about anything."

The three legal wizards readied their wands, and George summoned some branches, making torches for Draco and Neville. The five of them huddled together, so they could easier protect each other, and it wasn't long before they saw a dark shape floating towards them.

"There are three," Neville said, his voice just a little shaky, but Draco didn't blame him. His torch went out, and he suspected that a simple flame spell wouldn't even work.

_Expecto Patronum!_

All three of them were yelling out the incantation, but Harry was the only one successful. The wolf Patronus chased away one of the dementors, then came back for the others, and got a second before the third was on them.

"Harry!" Neville yelled out.

Draco, in a brief bout of Gryffindorish bravery that he was cursing even as it occurred, was trying to beat the soul-sucking creature off with his extinguished branch, but nothing he did worked. Skeletal hands rose up to the tatty hood and drew it back, preparing to administer the kiss.

He had left his wand at the Manor so he wouldn't even be tempted to use it. Expulsion would be the least of his worries if he was caught using magic near or in Potter Manor. The Dark Lord would know that Lucius Malfoy had lied to him, and Draco's father would almost certainly die as a result.

Warmth rushed through him, like the exact opposite of passing through a ghost, and the dementor threatening him and Neville was engulfed in flame.

There was shrieking like none of them had ever heard before, inhuman and deadly, yet the dementor continued to burn. Draco ripped his eyes away for a moment to look back at Harry and saw his fellow Slytherin breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on the tower of flame, his eyes alight with power.

It took only a few seconds for the dementor to be reduced to a pile of ash, but those few seconds felt like hours.

Only then did Draco notice that it was much warmer than it had been before, and darker as well. Clouds were obscuring the previously clear sky.

"Go on to the Hall and bring Neville," Draco ordered one of the twins, not caring which one it was. "Send back his father or mother, and tell them to get the Potters too. If the dementors didn't attract any attention, then apparating certainly won't."

The twin complied, gripping Neville's arm and apparating away with a loud 'crack'.

"Harry?" The remaining twin questioned. "How did you..."

Harry was still staring at the ash, his pupils dilated, "You and Fred did it."

George looked confused, but Draco quickly caught on and pressed Harry's story, whispering in the twin's ear, "As far as the Ministry is concerned, and anyone else who asks you, you and Fred were both casting _Incendio_, and you managed to cast it together, under extreme stress, making it powerful enough that it worked against the dementor, right?"

"George?" Harry sounded small, and vulnerable.

"Right Harry," George nodded, but his stare was calculating. The Weasley twins, despite the evidence of their grades, were both very intelligent. "We're talking about this later though."

Harry nodded, but said no more as Fred returned with Frank Longbottom, followed quickly by James and Sirius, who handed out chocolate to the four teenagers.

"How many?" James asked immediately.

"There were three," Draco reported, guessing that Harry was still in a bit of shock from destroying a dementor. He pointed at the ash, "That's all that's left of one of them."

"Sweet mother of Merlin," Sirius bent down to examine the pile. He pulled a few vials out of his robes, all labeled 'Evidence', and began collecting samples.

"Frank," James sounded different than Draco had ever heard him, and assumed it was his tone used as Head Auror, "I want these ashes thoroughly examined, and everyone who works on it under Oath of Secrecy. They can't talk to anyone, not their families, not their fellow Aurors, not even Amelia, and sure as hell _not_ Cornelius Fudge."

"Will do," Frank nodded and took all but two samples from Sirius.

Draco nodded approvingly, "Never leave all the evidence in one place."

James started, as if he had forgotten Draco was there, and looked at him as though reassessing the young Slytherin, "That's right. We've learned from experience that evidence of an unpleasant nature has a tendency to disappear."

"Can we just go home?" Harry asked, and Draco fought the instinct to wrap Harry in his arms.

Sirius and James stepped aside and spoke softly, then turned back.

"We have to check the area for the other two, but I expect they're back at Azkaban," Sirius was chewing on his lower lip in thought. "We have to find out exactly how many people have the authority to order them off the island."

"Go," James motioned to the teens but held Harry back for a moment. Draco lingered within hearing range. "It wasn't Fred and George."

"No Dad."

There was a sigh. "Tell your mother when you get back. She'll need to inform Albus."

Draco looked back and saw that Harry's expression had darkened, the muscles of his jaw tense. James hugged him though, and said something that Draco couldn't hear, before releasing him.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Harry said as he walked alongside Draco, the twins a few paces in front of them.

Draco nodded, "Someone wants you out of the way, and not just discredited."

"I doubt it was Voldemort," Harry postulated.

"Not his style. He'll want to take you out himself."

They were in agreement there, but it wasn't a comforting thought. If Voldemort hadn't been the one to send the dementors, then it meant that Harry had an equally vicious enemy within the Ministry, one powerful enough to give orders to the dementors.

Their theory was only supported by the owl that arrived while Harry was explaining the night's events to his mother. The first owl notified Harry that he was summarily expelled from Hogwarts and Aurors would be by shortly to snap his wand, but was followed quickly by an owl from Dumbledore telling Harry to ignore the first and not give his wand to anyone.

The end result was that Harry would face a hearing on Underage Magic Use and breaking the Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in a muggle area, both of which could result in expulsion from Hogwarts. Expulsion meant a snapped wand.

And expulsion of Harry Potter from Hogwarts was as good as a declaration of victory by the dark.

Having been raised to follow the Dark Lord, it might be expected that Draco would be thrilled at the possibility. All he could think about was Harry though. He knew his father had been gradually moving away from his Death Eater alliance before the resurrection of the Dark Lord, and that sending Draco to live with the Potters was tantamount to a declaration of his intent to betray the Dark Lord.

They did not discuss the possibilities that night, but Draco found himself holding onto Harry even tighter than usual. He silently declared to himself that if Harry was expelled, then Draco was not returning to Hogwarts either. Wherever Harry went, he would follow.

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	54. Chapter 54

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**Chapter Fifty-Four**

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Harry wasn't all that worried about his hearing, or at least that was what he told himself over and over. Any situation this minor, an infraction of the Restriction on Underage Sorcery, was taken care of by Amelia Bones, or her appointed representative. The offender was questioned in an office, usually given a slap on the wrist or a small fine if the infraction was serious enough, and sent off with a stern warning never to do it again.

Because of who he was, and the notice he had received at the Dursleys' when Dobby used a levitation charm in front of muggles, there was a chance that he'd be fined, or set to do some sort of community service. Harry might end up having to work doing menial chores at St. Mungo's for a few hours, but that was the worst he could see. Pragmatically, Harry rationalized, as much as Fudge wanted Harry expelled, the situation did not call for it.

There was a niggling worry in the back of his mind though. Fudge might try to influence the outcome in some way, and his power in the Ministry was enough that he might succeed.

Draco had insisted on selecting the appropriate attire to make Harry appear contrite, but not guilty. Harry had no idea how the right color and cut of robes was going to convey that, but he didn't argue. Draco was feeling bad that he couldn't go along as a witness, but no one was supposed to know he was staying at Potter Manor for the summer, so Harry let him do what he could.

"Good morning Harry," Mrs. Weasley was in a dressing gown, bustling around the dining room. She hadn't quite gotten used to having house elves doing all the work yet, and insisted on at least serving when she was in the Manor overnight.

Harry parents looked up and smiled encouragingly, and Remus came in behind him, "Morning."

"Draco will be down in a minute," Harry let them know as he sat down to his breakfast, and found he didn't have much of an appetite. He just selected a few pieces of toast, and decided on a cup of tea instead of juice. Ignoring the looks his parents exchanged, he finished his food and got up when his father did.

"Ready?" James Potter looked down at his son.

Harry nodded. He had perfected apparition, and was secretly tested and licensed, but his father was going to take him along this time. Apparating on his own into the Ministry wouldn't be the best move just before this particular hearing, and he was only really supposed to apparate in an emergency.

There was the odd sensation that went along with your body disappearing from one place and nearly instantly reappearing in another. Harry shook his head and straightened his robes nervously. He took the only spare seat in his father's office that wasn't piled high with files and parchment and started flipping through the Auror Manual. He had a few hours to kill before he was due in Amelia's office.

"It'll be fine Harry," James gave him a crooked smile.

Harry returned it kind of half-heartedly. He wouldn't really expect everything to be okay until it was all over. He had learned years ago not to set himself up for disappointment.

The tension between them had almost entirely evaporated in the face of this latest obstacle. Sirius's continued assurances that he was trying to make the Potters and Dumbledore see that Harry was old enough to at least hear some information helped.

"James!" Harry and his father both turned to see the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement standing in the doorway. "Thank Merlin you're in early. I'd like to take Cornelius and..."

"What is it Amelia?" James suddenly looked stern, not at all his usual joking self that traded hexes with Sirius at the Manor.

Amelia scowled, "That man has a ladle in every cauldron I tell you. He's convinced the Wizengamot to move Harry's hearing to eight this morning in Courtroom Ten. I've waited as long as I could before heading down. With Albus off, I'm stuck heading everything, and I just don't have the time for it!"

Harry looked down at his watch and saw it was only half to eight, "Why Courtroom Ten?"

"I'm sorry Harry," Amelia gave him a sympathetic look. "Cornelius has the power to call for a full session of the Wizengamot." Harry felt the blood drain from his face. The _full court_ was going to try him? That was far beyond any scenario Harry had imagined. "He's being even more stubborn than we expected about all this."

All this... of course, it didn't matter to most of the players involved that it was Harry's life stuck in the middle of this game. He felt a terrible sense of injustice, of ill-usage. He was being treated like a pawn in a power game between Fudge, Dumbledore, and Voldemort, and he did not appreciate it one bit. This latest was only another opportunity for Fudge and Dumbledore to face off in the political arena.

Dumbledore had the option to back down and quietly build up a resistance against Voldemort. Harry didn't like the feeling that he was being sacrificed, even if it was for the greater good. He knew he would have to kill Voldemort eventually, but how was he supposed to when nobody even trusted him enough to tell him what Voldemort was doing?

His father was looking at him, maybe checking to see if Harry was dealing with this new development. He gave him a weak smile. He would get through this. He would not give in to the anger. He would not fight with his parents again. He would maintain control of his power.

"We need to get the others alerted now." James was in command mode, something Harry had rarely seen. He walked to his door and yelled into the space that was jammed full of cubicles, "Kingsley!" Then he was back. "Harry, I want you down at the courtroom at least ten minutes early. I have to go back to the Manor and make sure the Weasleys and Neville are here on time."

Kingsley Shackelbolt poked his head in the door, "What's happening Boss?" He smiled at Harry, "Hey there Harry."

"Cornelius is being a dick," James growled to his subordinate. "I want you to stay with Harry until his trial starts. If asked, say you're guarding him so he doesn't go running off." There were snickers from both Amelia and Kingsley and Harry rolled his eyes. James then turned to Harry and held him in a stern gaze, "You don't say a word to the Wizengamot until help gets there, hear me?"

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure he'd be able to say anything... or the opposite possibility was that he'd have tremendous trouble keeping from defending himself. No, he would maintain control at all costs. If he was expelled so be it. He might very well have an easier time getting rid of Voldemort if he didn't have to bother with school. He already knew he could learn at a faster pace than Hogwarts taught when he put his mind to it.

Harry smirked and saw his father almost breathing a sigh of relief as he apparated away. Amelia gave him a reassuring smile and left the office.

Kingsley sat down in James's chair and propped up his legs, "What's the smirk for squirt?"

"Don't call me squirt Kingsley," Harry glared at the Auror. "I was just thinking that if Fudge manages to get me expelled I'll study my ass of, take my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in June, start the Auror Academy right after, and embarrass Fudge more than he's ever been before."

Kingsley was laughing by the end of Harry's speech, "I don't doubt you could do it."

Harry was projecting the assured Slytherin facade again, and wondered where it had been all summer. Ever since the graveyard he had been in something of a haze, easily distracted, quick to anger, but with the dementor attack and this challenge before him he had an immediate purpose again, aside from the eventual battle with Voldemort. He was going to make Fudge look like the idiot he was, even if it took months or years to accomplish.

They headed down to Courtroom Ten quietly, Harry with his shoulders straight and head high, and Kingsley rolling his eyes at various Ministry employees, as if he had been assigned babysitting duty and couldn't believe what he had to do in execution of his job.

Harry was glad he was early. He walked into the dungeon room, with a surreptitious wink from Kingsley as the Auror headed back up to his Department. Harry's father hadn't returned yet.

The full court wasn't there yet. Fudge was setting up his papers, and when he spotted Harry he dropped a file folder, parchment fanning out across the floor.

Harry instantly recognized the redhead that bent down and scurried around, picking up all the parchment and returning it to his boss, and held back a fierce scowl. Even Weasel wasn't as much of a prat as his older brother, and Harry had thought he would never see the day when a Weasley would be worse than Ron. In Harry's opinion, betraying one's own family was one of the worst offenses possible.

"You... you got the owl," Fudge stammered.

Harry just lifted a single eyebrow, hoping that all the practice had worked. It felt like it did, and Percy's flinch agreed with that. Harry didn't say a word. He walked straight up the aisle as if he had better things to be doing, sat casually in the chair with chains hanging off it, leaned back, and crossed his legs. The robes Draco chose draped artfully around him without any effort on Harry's part. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and ignored the ominous twitching of the chains.

Purple robed wizards and witches filed into the room, a silver W emblazoned on the left chest of their robes, and took their seats. Amelia, her face stony and her monocle in place, which she only used to make a certain impression, sat in the seat next to the one Cornelius Fudge had commandeered, giving him a peculiar look. Harry guessed that the chair he took was for the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, a position that Amelia was acting in until a replacement for Albus Dumbledore was selected.

"Well," Fudge, after his initial fluster, composed himself and sat down. He did not have on the usual patronizing expression he had once worn when Harry was around. He looked both stern and uncomfortable instead. There was another witch next to Fudge, on the other side from Amelia, her face in shadow.

"Disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at Potter Manor, Godric's Hollow.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley –"

"And Dedalus Franklin Diggle XXVII, Counsel for the Accused," Harry turned his head to see a short wizard with graying hair coming down the aisle.

In the past Harry had wondered why the man was on retainer as the Potter Family Barrister. He had a tendency to be over excitable and a bit bumbling. In the Courtroom, however, he appeared to be in his element and there was nothing silly about him. Once again, Harry reminded himself that appearances were frequently deceptive.

"Yes... well... I suppose we'll need another chair...," Fudge was flustered again, not expecting this development. "Weasley!"

"No need," Diggle held up his hand, then took out his wand and drew a chair beside Harry. It appeared with a solid 'thump' and he sat down before drawing up a small table in front of them to place his papers on.

The Wizengamot was muttering amongst themselves and several of them nodded at Diggle, much to Harry's relief. He might look nonchalant at that moment but he had slowly been getting more and more anxious.

Fudge started shuffling his notes again, "Yes. Well, then. So. The charges."

He finally came across a long piece of parchment and held it up as if he was giving a grand speech, "The charges against the accused are as follows –"

"I do not believe you wish to continue Minister," Diggle said calmly, without moving from his seated position behind his conjured table.

"And why not?" Fudge blustered, his face turning increasingly redder.

"To begin with, your earliest statement to the Court is inaccurate," Fudge's face was slowly purpling now and Diggle continued as if all was normal. "This is not a Disciplinary Hearing. The Wizengamot Charter of Operation clearly states that a Trial is constituted of a hearing before the Wizengamot with more than three-quarters of the members present. As there are only two absent, this is a trial, not a hearing."

Diggle then stood, and Fudge slowly sat down, a puppet with his strings cut, "In the case of a Trial where the Accused is a minor, the only persons allowed in the Courtroom at the time of the Trial are the members of the Wizengamot itself, the Accused, Council for the Accused, the Family of the Accused, and any Witnesses to the alleged crime. You, Minister Fudge, and any members of your personal staff, are in violation of the law should you remain present, and subject to heavy fines and a brief stay in the Ministry holding cells."

Fudge just stared at Diggle, his mouth slightly open. Harry was tempted to laugh, but knew it would be inappropriate. What was it Dumbledore had said to Lockhart? Ah yes, Fudge had been impaled by his own sword.

Trying to maintain some sense of authority, Fudge turned to Amelia, "Well?"

"He is correct Minister," Amelia Bones said with a sigh, as though she was upset by the turn of events. "You and your staff must leave, or I shall have to call Aurors to escort you out."

Fudge's eyes widened momentarily, but he was not about to dragged out by Aurors. He stood swiftly, smoothed his robes in a jerky motion and signaled for Percy to follow him. Percy started collecting his parchment and quills, but Diggle interrupted again.

"The recording of the proceedings thus far must remain, Scribe Weasley," Diggle said firmly. The instant Percy left his writing materials behind Diggle charmed the quill to record everything said. Fudge was almost at the door, with Percy trailing behind empty handed, when Diggle spoke again, "_All_ of your staff must leave Minister. Dolores Umbridge is _not_ a member of the Wizengamot. The penalty should she remain, now that you have been warned, is a rather larger fine along with two months in Azkaban."

The witch finally stood and Harry got a distinct impression of a transfiguration from human to toad gone wrong. She gave Harry a cold assessing look, before slowly joining Fudge and Weasley. The three of them left the Courtroom and the door banged shut, but not before Harry heard voices from the hall.

"It's Percy the Traitor," Fred Weasley called out loudly.

George continued, "Have you changed you last name to Fudge yet Traitor?"

Amelia Bones took the appropriate chair and cleared her throat. The attention of the Wizengamot and Harry returned to her. Diggle hadn't even given the scene outside the courtroom notice.

"I suggest, Madame Bones, that you drop the charges against Mr. Potter immediately," Diggle said as though there had been no interruptions.

"Your grounds?" Amelia raised her eyebrows and Harry sat up a little straighter and did his best to look innocent.

"I have here a document, signed by Minister Angliss and confirmed by the Wizengamot of November 1982 and the Department of Mysteries, declaring that no child of Lily and James Potter will be subject to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875," Diggle held up a parchment and nearly every member of the Wizengamot leaned forward in their seats, much more interested in the matter before them than when Fudge had been speaking.

"I was not aware of this decision," Amelia gave Harry a sharp look and he returned a mildly sheepish grin, still doing his best to look innocent and harmless.

"It has been sealed since 1982 and will remain sealed until the last of Harry Potter's siblings graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Diggle announced sternly. "Revelation of the Decree by any party other than a Potter or their designated representative to any other party is punishable by a fine of one thousand Galleons and no less than one full year in Azkaban, with memory charms for any party illegally informed."

Several jaws dropped open, and Harry raised his eyebrows. He knew that his parents gone to every extreme they could in order to keep him and his siblings safe, and to ensure they would be able to protect themselves in the future, but he didn't know that last bit. He felt a need to reassess his dealings with his parents of that summer, but knew he had to wait.

"That is highly unusual Dedalus," Amelia finally managed.

"No more unusual that the circumstances which made the Decree necessary Amelia," Dedalus Diggle returned to her immediately. Each member of the Wizengamot looked at Harry in fascination, no doubt thanks to the mention of the Department of Mysteries.

"That disposes with the Underage Sorcery," Amelia said firmly. "How does Mr. Potter respond to the charge of breeching the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Life threatening situation Madame," Diggle said shortly. "Mr. Potter and his friends were attacked by a trio of dementors while walking from Potter Manor to Longbottom Hall. In addition, no muggles were present at the time."

There was silence in the Courtroom. Amelia Bones gave Harry another sharp look, and this time he did not smile, "Dementors? There has been no report of dementors leaving Azkaban."

"Perhaps the Ministry should get a count of the dementors, as one was destroyed in the attack," Diggle was now looking at the Wizengamot as a whole in accusation.

"Destroyed?" a voice asked faintly. More than one of the purple-robed wizards and witches had pressed a hand to their chest.

"Yes," Diggle stated firmly. "The remains were collected by Auror Frank Longbottom and are currently being examined. I have witnesses to attest to the presence of the dementors, and the manner of destruction, should the Court need further evidence."

"I don't believe that will be necessary," Amelia Bones shivered. "I will speak with Auror Longbottom concerning the evidence. A show of hands to dismiss charges?"

Well more than half the Wizengamot raised their hands, and Harry felt something inside deflate.

"So passed," Amelia said. "As this was a Proceeding concerning a minor the record is sealed and shall remain so until Mr. Potter's seventeenth birthday. This session of the Wizengamot is closed."

Harry waited until they all filed out the rear doors before standing up himself. He turned to Dedalus Diggle and spoke in a near whisper, "Thank you so much."

"Cornelius has always had a tendency to ignore the finer points of law. Besides, you were not the only Slytherin in the room Harry," Diggle leaned down and whispered in his ear. He then put his purple hat on and left the courtroom, stumbling at the entrance, nearly losing the hat, and excusing himself in a somewhat squeaky tone.

"Blimey," Fred's voice echoed through the Courtroom. "They really tried you with the full court?"

Harry nodded, "All charges dismissed. You should have seen Diggle. He got Fudge and his underlings kicked out of the room."

George, only a step behind Fred, grinned, "That was brilliant. Percy didn't even look at any of us when he left but his face was redder than I've ever seen on him."

"Of course, Ron gets that red every other day," Fred commented.

They both hauled on Harry's arms and dragged him out to the others waiting in the hall, Neville smiling in relief. As soon as Harry's father saw them he grabbed Harry in a tight hug. Harry cursed his lack of height. He only came up to his father's shoulder and was unlikely to grow further.

"Why weren't you inside?" Harry asked quietly.

"Hexing Cornelius wouldn't have helped matters Harry," James Potter responded with a wry grin. "I'll have to stay far away from his office for some time."

Harry nodded. While thankful he was not expelled, he felt some of that deep burning anger that was always present that summer. Dealing with Fudge was going to take some serious planning, and Harry knew he couldn't involve his family. They needed James Potter to keep his job.

It was then that Lucius Malfoy came around the corner and gave the group a momentary look of disgust, "Patronus Potter."

"Lord Malfoy," Harry bowed his head, a minor slight to the man in neglecting to execute a full bow. Of course, ignoring James Potter was a much larger insult. "I trust your wife is well."

"Indeed she is," Lucius sneered just barely. "I will ensure to pass along your concern for her wellbeing." He glanced around quickly. "Cornelius has already departed?"

"He left before things even really started," Harry smirked, allowing his eyes to light up just a bit.

Lucius let an answering smirk appear on his face for just a moment before it was replaced with his customary expression of distaste. Harry was well aware that the Malfoy patriarch had a low opinion of the Minister, perhaps the only issue that the Order and Death Eaters agreed on.

"I am sure my son will be interested in the results of your trial." Lucius drawled the words blandly. "The Minister will be waiting."

He swept away from them, cane firmly in hand and cloak billowing out behind him, similar to the way that Snape's robes always billowed in Hogwarts. Harry's father, the twins, and Neville all gave him peculiar looks which he shrugged off. Slytherin politics were often nearly impossible to explain to anyone outside the House, and especially Gryffindors.

The trip home was entirely uneventful, and Harry brought the twins and Neville up to his room where Draco was eagerly awaiting the outcome, as his father had predicted. He let Neville and the twins tell the other boy what had happened, and Draco looked furious on Harry's behalf.

Before Harry spoke, he looked at them all first, trying to gauge exactly what he could and could not say. He knew he was facing a difficult year, and would need all the support he could get, but that did not necessarily mean full disclosure of all his secrets. In the end, he decided that he would at least give the twins the answers he knew they were expecting.

"Fred, George, how much do you know about magical twins?"

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	55. Chapter 55

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**Chapter Fifty-Five**

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"Amelia told me everything she could," Sirius reported when he returned to Potter Manor after his shift at the Ministry that night. "She's not very happy that we kept certain things from her."

James just shook his head as he rubbed his temples to ward of his growing headache, "She had no need to know. The Ministry shouldn't even have been able to detect Harry using magic. Hell, we can't detect anyone in pureblood households. Those special exceptions we got for the kids were just a precaution. Someone there planned this, and must have set sensors specifically for Harry that also followed those dementors."

"Fred and George used magic as well," Sirius nodded, his brain still in Auror mode rather than Marauder mode. "They are overage, but they should have been charged with breaking the Statute for Secrecy along with Harry."

"Bloody Fudge," James snarled. He hated that he had to go into the Ministry the next day and act like he respected the man.

"That you Padfoot?" Remus's voice came from the lounge that had been converted into the Order's room, and Sirius grinned and bounded away.

James, scowling with thoughts of Fudge attempting to sabotage Harry's education, and possibly his freedom, followed at a much more sedate pace. Remus and Lily were in there researching, looking for some possible explanation for Voldemort's continued survival and ways to destroy him. They had stacks of books and rolls of parchment almost entirely obscuring the surface of the rather large table that the Order usually gathered around.

"Moony!" Sirius grabbed Remus from behind in a crushing hug and lifted both the werewolf and his chair off the floor before setting him down with a thump and rubbing his arms. "You're getting heavy Moony."

Remus just turned and raised his eyebrows, "Or perhaps it's the two hundred year old chair made of solid oak?"

"Could be," Sirius nodded in thought and collapsed into the seat next to Remus. "So how's Harry holding up?"

It was a question James had been hoping to avoid. He took the seat next to Lily and felt the soft hand of his wife take hold of his arm in a comforting gesture. The animosity that summer, the anger in Harry's eyes, was something James had never expected to face in his own children, and he had no idea how to handle the situation.

In the time between the dementor attack and the trial, Harry had been occupied with thoughts of defending himself and possible expulsion, and so had little room for fighting with his parents. He had needed their support. But with the trial over, Harry had gone straight to his room with the Weasley twins, Neville, and the Malfoy brat, and hadn't emerged. The twins and Neville had gone home eventually, but Harry and Malfoy had taken their dinner in Harry's room.

"What did I do?" James asked the people closest to him. He could feel despair creeping in and he turned to Lily. "Where did we go wrong with him?"

"You didn't James," Remus, ever the voice of reason, put aside his parchment and quill and removed the reading glasses he had only recently needed. "You raised a good kid; he's just not a kid anymore, and he's not an adult. Harry is right on the cusp and he has far more pressure on him than any other his age.

"He should be thinking about trying to get a date, fretting over his O.W.L.s, and trying to decide on a future career. Instead, he has the prophecy looming over his head, has witnessed the murder of a classmate and the rising of Voldemort, and is now caught in a power struggle between Fudge and Dumbledore."

There was silence as they all soaked in Remus's words. His friend was right, James knew, but that did not stop him from feeling stung every time Harry directed that angry green gaze his way. Mentally he cursed Voldemort, Fudge, and Dumbledore for putting his family in such a terrible position. Despite being Head Auror, and the boy's father, James wasn't sure he knew how to help Harry anymore.

"I think we should give him a mirror," Sirius looked quite uncomfortable, James noted.

"Not a good idea," Lily gave her input, her eyes, so similar to Harry's, relaying her determination, much softer than her son's.

James's frown deepened, "That would be illegal Padfoot, and if Harry was caught with it..."

"Who would catch him?" Sirius waved away the concern. "He'll be at Hogwarts."

"We still don't know who is teaching defense," Remus broached the touchy subject, discussed far too many times already at Order meetings. The recently passed laws at the Ministry meant Remus would never there again, or anywhere other than Potter Manor, until the laws were repealed.

At that Sirius echoed James's frown. He had missed the meeting that night, on duty at the Ministry, "Albus still hasn't found anyone?"

Lily shook her head, "We can't take either of you, or any of our other Ministry workers for that matter, away from their jobs. Alastor is still getting over being shut in his trunk, and Remus has his mission so I have to stay in the Manor.

"Between the rumored curse on the position and the current public opinion of Albus," Remus rubbed his face wearily, "there's no one outside the Order who would even consider taking the post."

"And we all know who Fudge will appoint if he manages to get that latest 'Decree' through the Wizengamot and Board of Governors," Sirius grumbled and flopped down in one of the chairs spaced around the table.

Every one of them narrowed their eyes. If it was possible to dislike any of Fudge's lackeys more intensely than Fudge himself, the Marauders managed it with Delores Umbridge. She was a racist, speciesist, bureaucratic bitch who followed Fudge around like he was the grandest thing since Merlin.

The newest laws restricting werewolves and other 'half-breeds' were her doing. She was chasing away all their potential allies before the war fully began.

No, they could not possibly give Harry a mirror. Even if Albus managed to find a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, it would not be someone they could fully trust. Harry was resourceful. If it became necessary for him to contact home in a manner more private other than owl post he would find a way.

"If Harry doesn't know anything, he'll be able to profess his ignorance that much more convincingly." Lily was clearly thinking along similar lines as her husband, and despite his position in the Auror Corp, she was much more strategically minded, innately so. Had she been pureblood, or even a half-blood, she might have been Slytherin material.

Remus was already immersed in his book again, as a long silence closed the conversation, leaving them each to their own thoughts. The rest of the Marauders, and Lily, turned to the research, trying to figure out exactly how Voldemort survived the reflected killing curse.

If they were impotent to help Harry at school that year, then they would still help him in any way they could, and the research before them was the only avenue available at the time.

Most of the books spread before them were from the Black library and vaults, and very Dark in nature. During the day they were securely locked up, kept from curious children, and then taken out for research once all the young Potters and their assorted guests were in their rooms for the night.

It was well into early morning when Sirius shook his head to dispel the sleep that had been creeping up on him. He stretched and yawned, "Time to turn in I think."

The others agreed. They had made no progress beyond eliminating several books as useless in the Order's endeavor.

Lily began upstairs to check on the children one last time as the men were left to clean up the books and parchment, making sure to mark pages in partially read tomes and sorting the parchment into appropriate piles. James was rolling up a map that they were using to mark what they knew of Voldemort's travels after he left his seventh year at Hogwarts.

James led his two closest friends up the stairs towards their rooms. While Remus had lived in the Manor permanently since he began tutoring Harry, Sirius had always had a fully renovated Grimmauld Place. He hadn't slept there in months though, preferring to stay in his room at the Manor.

They stopped when they saw Lily just standing at Harry's doorway, and he looked in to see what had her frozen there.

Remus immediately erected a sound bubble shield around them to prevent the inevitable explosion from waking anyone, especially the subject of the surprise. James was thankful because he felt hamstrung, completely incapable of any action. Remus's senses had saved them all quite a bit of embarrassment many times.

The four adults stood, each of them wondering how they had missed it.

Harry and the Malfoy kid were curled together in a way that bespoke long familiarity. They were a study in light and dark. Draco's flawless pale skin and almost silver blond hair looked almost ethereal in the moonlight that spilled across the bed.

In contrast, the occasional Quidditch or training scar marred Harry's sun-bronzed skin. There were a few fresh scars from the Tournament and subsequent battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dark locks of hair tumbled onto the pales skin that Harry was using as a pillow.

"I knew I should have told Lucius to stick his wand up his –"

"James!" Lily censured her husband, but then paled. "Oh no. We haven't given him the talk. What if they..."

Remus snorted rather uncharacteristically, "A bit late for that."

The Potters' heads swiveled from unison away from their son to level demanding glares at their friend, causing Remus to shift uncomfortably.

"I don't know about Draco, but Harry..."

"...got the talk years ago." Sirius came to the rescue. He didn't know what Remus was going to say, but there were just some things that a boy's parents did _not _need to know. "Harry came to me with some questions when he was eleven." He exchanged a look with Remus guaranteeing they would talk later.

"And you didn't see fit to tell us?" Lily was getting agitated, and James was feeling the same. They were missing out on so many milestones of their son's life.

Worse though, was the niggling thought that Harry didn't trust any of them, or he would have told them about his relationship with Malfoy junior.

"I just can't take anything more right now," James brushed past his friends and blocked out any possible noise as he prepared for bed and slipped between the sheets.

Lily was there just moments after him and kissed him goodnight before flicking her wand to turn off the lights. It wasn't long before her breath deepened and she shifted in her sleep.

Sleep eluded James. He stared up in the darkness at their ceiling, trying to process the bludger that had been knocked into him.

He knew that in working as hard as he did to rise in rank in the Ministry, without bribing his way to the top, he was sacrificing a closer relationship with his family, but it had never hit him as hard as it did that night. When Harry had questions, he went to Sirius, and somehow Remus was in the loop as well.

The worst of it was that James couldn't quit and try to make up for lost years. It was this time, the second rise of Voldemort, that all their planning and work was for. For the sake of his family, James had to keep his position, his influence, and his access to information.

Even if it meant hurting them in the process.

He turned on his side, facing away from Lily, and shifted until he found a comfortable position. Harry didn't trust him, and James just could not find fault with his son's logic. He could not think of one time he had been there for Harry. All he was around for was lecturing after Harry got into trouble, and Harry was old enough now that the lectures wouldn't do any good any longer.

Sighing, James tried to force himself to sleep. It was a difficult epiphany he was having, the thought that his son was becoming an adult, one who didn't need, or even want him.

Sleep would be a long time coming.

SIRIUS followed Remus to his room once James and Lily were in theirs. He sat in an armchair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. Remus handed him a glass of firewhiskey, which Sirius thankfully drank from.

"It was Harry's third year –"

"His third year!" Sirius almost choked on his drink. He knew what Remus was talking about, and now he knew why Remus knew when none of the rest of them did.

Remus glared and Sirius obligingly shut his mouth. He knew his friend wouldn't tell his story if Sirius kept interrupting.

"He wasn't allowed Hogsmeade visits, so that was when I taught his to conjure a Patronus," Remus told him, taking a long drink himself. Because of his constitution it took far more alcohol to affect Remus than any of the rest of them, but he could still take advantage of the relaxing effects. "Towards the end of year he came into my office smelling different. He admitted why and we had an argument."

Remus left it at that, and Sirius stared at his friend, "You _argued_ with him? You, Mr. Easy-going, the mild mannered werewolf?"

"He was _thirteen_ Sirius!" Remus snapped. Thought Sirius was right, and Remus was generally calm and mild, the Marauders got to see his temper now and then, which was fierce once breached. "The girl was just a friend who wanted her first time to be better than her sisters told her it would be, and he obliged. Neither of them had any intention to take it beyond the one time."

Now Sirius knew why Remus had gotten angry at the cub, and why part of him was still angry. If Harry had loved the girl, or intended a relationship with her, Remus may have slightly disapproved of their youth, but nothing more. Virginity in the wizarding world was somewhat sacred traditionally. It was rebellion that had sparked Sirius's attempt to obliterate all remains of his, and enjoyment of the process that kept him going.

James and Lily had never been with anyone until each other. So far as Sirius knew, Remus was still a virgin. He had no idea though, that Remus held to those old traditions, from a time when sex magic was practiced, and arranged marriages were the only marriages. Sex magic was classified as illegal though, during the time of Grindelwald, and arranged marriages, with the lower number of purebloods, were falling out of fashion.

What did Remus think of him then?

His doubt must have shown on his face, or in his scent.

"I'm not condemning you Padfoot." Remus exhaled loudly and dropped onto his bed. "I know that even when we were kids people didn't really care anymore, even in some of the old conservative families. And I know that James and Lily are letting the kids all marry for love. I just never imagined any of my cubs..."

That was what it boiled down to. Each of them, James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus, viewed the Potter children as theirs. James and Lily had long accepted, and even cherished, the close connection that Sirius and Remus had with their children. The Potter family was better protected as a result.

Problems always arose though. There was the time Harry had decided to play with Moony. Thoughts of that night still made Sirius weak in the knees.

Then there was discipline. It was hard on the children that they sometimes had to face the disappointment from four parents instead of the typical two.

And now there was the problem of Harry's chosen partner, and the past indiscretion, which Harry might not even have thought of as a potential problem. It was not just that Draco was a Malfoy that concerned Remus and it was not a case of homophobia. Draco Malfoy was the last of his line, and Harry the Heir to the Potters. Together, they could condemn one line to extinction and another to infighting as secondary heirs fought over the title of Lord Potter when Harry was gone.

In some ways it was Sirius's fault. He, as Harry's godfather, had set a terrible example for the boy. The Black line was dying because of Sirius, and he had never shown a shred of remorse. He had been thrilled in fact, and expressed his pleasure that no more Blacks would come after him to be corrupted by the dark.

But that was saying that no Black had the ability to overcome, to rise up out of darkness and embrace the light, as Sirius had. And if he were the one raising the children, would they have to rise out darkness when he would be determined to raise them in light?

Too confused, too many thoughts swirling through his head for such a late hour, Sirius bid his friend good night and retired to his own room.

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A/N: Normally I don't post these things, as I think they detract from the story, however I feel that this one is necessary. Updates will not be nearly as regular as they have been. I am entirely unsatisfied with several chapters and a massive reworking of them is in order. Additionally, I suddenly find myself with far less spare time than before.

So, I apologize that it has taken this long to post this chapter, but this will be my only apology. I will try to post weekly, as I had before, but I highly doubt I will manage.

That said, I _will_ complete this story, though it will be the last thing I post for quite some time. Any other tales I have in the works will likely not find their way here, as I doubt I will complete them. Real life surges forwards, and fanfiction is but entertainment.

Thank you for reading, and please continue,

sarini


	56. Chapter 56

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**Chapter Fifty-Six**

**Fifth Year**

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The rest of the summer passed by swiftly, and almost before they knew it, the students found themselves boarding the Hogwarts Express once more. Sitting in a compartment with only Ginny Weasley and a Ravenclaw girl he had never noticed before, Harry felt utterly alone.

It was not that he was excluded from the prefect's meeting, not entirely. Draco did deserve the position more than he did. Draco was more studious, and tended to be more rule abiding, and he _was_ Snape's godson, which certainly counted for something in the politically minded Slytherin House. There was also the matter of the events of the previous spring. It was highly likely that a good portion of the Slytherins would not fully respect Harry's authority, were he a prefect.

No matter all the reasons though, and no matter how many times he assured Draco that he was fine with the decision, Harry felt a little coil of jealousy deep in his gut.

After all, Neville had been made a prefect, and he got into just as much trouble as Harry did, usually right along his side. Hermione was no surprise, nor was Pansy, but something about the whole issue just made Harry fell angry. He was the Boy-Who-Lived. He had faced Voldemort and lived so many times that he was starting to expect an annual confrontation of some sort.

The Ravenclaw sitting across from him changed position and flipped a page in her magazine, which Harry realized she was reading upside-down. He groaned and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

The highlight of the summer had come towards the end, Harry remembered as he willed himself away from the compartment where he sat, the rhythm of the train lulling him into a trance-like state.

_Hermione and the Weasleys had been in Potter Manor for a few days, as had several Order members. Never before had so many guests stayed the night, and, as his parents had foreseen, the children had been forced to share rooms._

_The Weasley twins were in Alex's room, and Alex shared with Ian. Neville was in his customary room, with Ron Weasley sharing. Hermione and Ginny had Brie's guest room, while Tonks was in with Brie, even if she spent a good deal of time with Remus. That had provided teasing fodder for weeks._

_It was enjoyable having so many people in the castle, if for no other reason than it kept his parents busy and gave him many duties as host to the younger guests. He did not have to expend any effort to avoid his parents, as he only saw them at meals far across the table._

_Days were mostly spent assuring Hermione that their homework was completed and playing games. The Weasley twins sequestered themselves frequently, working on their pranks in secret, and then testing them on the many available subjects, but their younger brother most frequently._

_Harry was the only one they let in on occasion, as he had been the one to fund their enterprises._

_It was following one instance where they had done something yet again to humiliate the Weasel that most of the students in the Manor were gathered in Harry's room. Ian, a consummate chess player, had kindly offered the Weasel sanctuary and the two battled across a chess board._

_The Potter twins were in and out of Harry's room, too young to be truly interested in the conversation there, but old enough to want to be with Harry and his friends – and young enough that they did not understand when not to speak._

_And that was how Hermione, the Weasley twins, and Alex learned of the relationship between Harry and Draco._

The ensuing conversation had perhaps been the most interesting that Harry had ever had. While somewhat aware of the prejudices held by muggles, Harry had never actually been faced with them. Hermione herself, ruled by logic as always, saw nothing wrong in their union, but voiced that many muggle-borns would view a relationship between two males as an abomination.

Spurred by that revelation was a questioning about dating and marriage customs among wizards and witches. Harry knew that as soon as she was able, Hermione would find herself in the library, reading everything she could find on wizarding relationships.

A noise disturbed him from his recollections, and he looked up to see the compartment door opening, to admit Cho Chang.

"Harry," Cho stepped into the compartment, "I've been looking for you."

The Asian girl looked around the compartment and a frown of distaste marred her face when she spotted his companions.

Harry stood and led her back into the corridor, "What was it you wanted to talk about, Cho?"

Her eyes glistened with tears and she swallowed deeply before speaking, "I got to see Cedric, at Mungo's, before..." She visibly composed herself and continued, "He told me everything, Harry, and I wanted you to know that I support you."

"Thanks, Cho. That means a lot."

He waited for her to say something more, but they just stood there while a few students passed by. They gave Harry wary looks, even glares in some occasions, while casting sympathetic glances towards Cho. He adjusted his concentration and noticed that the students passing felt overly cool, while Cho's temperature was rising mildly.

"Maybe," Cho paused briefly before rushing forward, "maybe we can go to Hogsmeade sometime."

Before Harry could say a word she left down the corridor and entered another car. Harry groaned and leaned against the wall behind him, hitting his head back against the paneling. Draco was not going to be happy when he heard of the incident. He ignored the looks his actions generated, as most of the students probably thought he was crazy anyway, and closed his eyes.

"Harry?"

"Hey, Nev," Harry responded to his friend without opening his eyes.

A moment later he wished he had. He heard someone bump into Neville, and then a foul smell filled the corridor, and Harry remembered the plant Neville's great-uncle had given him for his birthday that year.

He could practically feel Neville's cringe before he opened his eyes and saw they were both covered in yellow stinksap.

"Sorry."

Harry sighed, knowing that Neville would feel guilty regardless of his response, but that he had to try anyway, "Don't worry, Nev. Everything's fine." He looked down and then snorted, "Or it will be fine shortly."

He cast a cleaning charm followed by a deodorizing charm and it was as if the plant had never spewed the stinksap at them.

"Hermione will be along soon," Neville told him as they entered the compartment. "She's making sure the first years are settled."

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and the rain started just as the sun was going down. By the time they got to Hogwarts it was pouring.

Thoroughly drenched, the Hogwarts students climbed from the thestral pulled carriages. Harry knew the creatures were there, but could only see them out of the corner of his eye. He knew, thanks to Remus, that only those who had seen death could see the lizard-like winged horses, but he supposed that Quirrell's demise had not been quite enough, as he had been losing consciousness at the end.

Once inside the entrance hall Harry dried himself off, and saw many of the older students doing the same. Some of the prefects were drying younger students, and Professor Flitwick stood at the doors of the great hall to charm anyone who had been missed.

Draco and Harry had discussed the approaching year at length, ever refining their plan. They had even consulted Severus the few times they were able to pull him aside when he visited the Manor for Order meetings.

The Slytherins so far were living up to his expectations. Harry knew he had the support of many, and the condemnation of some, but in public they would all treat him neutrally. On Harry's part, he acted awkward and unsure around them, as the entire student body knew that the parents of several Slytherins wanted him dead.

He sat at the far end of the table, as close to the doors out of the hall of possible. As the sorting progressed he politely clapped for each new Slytherin, but the seats around him remained empty.

Harry was officially the Slytherin House outcast.

Luckily, every student in Slytherin fifth year and above had a private room. The dungeon dormitory was much more expansive than any other in the school, partially due to Salazar Slytherin's massive ego, and in part because of the potentially volatile situations that could arise amongst the older students.

Severus was the one who assigned the rooms, and according to the plan calculated over the summer Harry's was the smallest possible. The benefit was one no other Slytherin would be aware of, the connecting door to Draco's much larger room.

It was after curfew when the door opened and Draco slipped into Harry's room. Harry had sat like a stone through Severus's opening speech and the upper-year meeting. The meeting had been so much more formal and stiff than in any year previous. Every Slytherin knew that Voldemort was back, but none of them would publicly declare their allegiances.

There was no surprise when several of his housemates found some discreet way of telling Harry they supported him. Even then, he knew not to trust the word of all of them. Any one of them could be trying to get valuable information from him, or be laying the foundations for a trap years in the future. Then there were those like Draco, showing a pretense of support for the Dark Lord.

Slytherin was still a family, but one ripped apart by dissention and surrounded by tension.

"Who do we have?"

Harry rubbed his temples. Life had been so much easier before Hogwarts, his emotions so much easier to control. Yet at Hogwarts he had found Draco and formed a friendship with Hermione and the Weasley twins, and discovered a side of Severus Snape that very few were allowed to glimpse.

"Pretty much what we expected," Harry's response was tired. His emotions were all over the place and he had no idea how to control them now. "There were a few surprises, but we predicted that too."

Draco was already dressed for bed and he walked over to stand in front of Harry, who was seated on the side of his bed. He looked up at Draco, who had grown more than him that summer, then let his eyes trail down the blonde's body. Harry let a predatory smile slowly form as he ghosted his hands up the silk clad legs and onto the smooth skin of Draco's waist. He lifted the pajama top and pressed a kiss to the exposed navel, darting his tongue in briefly to prompt a soft gasp. Drawing Draco closer, Harry started to lower the pajama bottoms. They had experimented with the fine art of fellatio that summer and Harry was eager to continue.

Just as he had begun to lick Draco like one of the popsicles that could always be found in Potter Manor, the sharp rap of knuckles on his door sounded.

Both teens groaned in frustration.

Harry had spent the good part of two hours warding his room that evening, and activated the ward to inform him of who was outside his door. He suspected it was the same one Dumbledore used on his office, an obscure spell that Harry had found in a set of books that were a birthday gift from the headmaster.

"Snape," Harry informed Draco quietly. "It's no good pretending to be asleep already."

As Draco straightened himself out and climbed under the covers to hide his potential embarrassment, Harry went to the door and let in his Head of House.

"Teenagers," Severus snorted as he glided into the room. His sharp eyes had quickly, and accurately, assessed the situation he walked into.

A pink flush covered Draco's face, and he averted his eyes from his godfather. Harry, however, ignored the byplay and drew up a chair for Severus.

"Are you still prepared to go through with this?"

Harry nodded solemnly. "I was ostracized in second year. True, I had the House's support, but I didn't fully realize it. I am fully prepared for this to be difficult. At least I know there are a few I can fully trust."

He made sure to keep eye contact with Severus as he spoke, as it was crucial for the trust between them to remain solid. A single dark eyebrow lifted, and the sides of the thin lips quirked up in a small smirk. It was a typical look of Severus amusement.

The three of them talked at length, going over the plan a few more times. Harry named every Slytherin that had approached him that night, and his observations of the students from other house both on the train ride and during the feast.

"Very well," Severus stood and nodded to his godson. "I expect regular updates on what you learn of your classmates and their loyalties. Have you had the dream again?"

Harry shook his head. It had only been a few times that summer that the image of a hall in the Ministry had invaded his dreams, one he assumed led to the Department of Mysteries. He and Draco had extrapolated from what the Order members both said and did not say that Voldemort was after the prophecy. What remained unknown was if Harry was tapping into Voldemort's dreams, or if Voldemort was sending the dreams to Harry as part of a larger plan.

"Then I will leave you two to your... sleep," Severus left the room with a swirl of his robes and Harry shook his head. The older Slytherin had such a flare for the dramatic.

With the door closed and sealed Harry turned his gaze back to Draco. Silver eyes were almost glowing in the dimly lit room and Harry burrowed under the blankets of his bed to kneel between Draco's legs.

"Where was I?"

Harry had something new planned for that night, something that Draco knew about from Sirius's book, but that neither of them had experienced. With Draco's satin pajama bottoms tossed to the side Harry had full access to the blond. He put his mouth to work and thoroughly enjoyed each strangled moan and arch of the back. Draco's hands moved from clutching the sheets, to Harry's head, and back again.

Harry's hand worked in concert with his mouth, and quickly became slick. Slowly, he moved it lower, waiting for a sound of protest, but hearing none, and eventually he breached Draco with a single finger, little by little, as he felt the muscles loosen around him.

He mimicked the motion of his mouth with his finger, and then two, and finally he found a spot that had Draco bucking beneath him, crying out inarticulately. Harry found that he was rubbing himself against the sheets, unable to stop, so aroused he was by the sounds Draco was making. He would not need Draco to return the favor that night.

It was fortuitous that Harry had already warded his room, or perhaps just good planning, as Draco's yells would certainly have drawn attention otherwise.

Sleep took them swiftly and Harry slept better than he expected, knowing he was surrounded by many who wished him ill, but curled around the one who would be by his side always.

Only as he was drifting off did he realize he had forgotten to tell Draco that Cho Chang had asked him on a date, and Harry had not had a chance to refuse.

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	57. Chapter 57

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**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

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Harry didn't know what had come over him. Even as he walked towards Severus's classroom with note in hand he felt his anger ebbing away and settling into the low simmer that had been in the back of his mind all summer, still unexplained. He was always in control, never having outbursts like that.

Remus had made sure that Harry and Neville read a great deal of literature, both muggle and magical, and a slightly adapted quote from one of his favorite muggle authors popped into his head...

By the pricking of my scar, something wicked this way comes...

Though nothing of consequence had happened since the Third Task, there were still his dreams. Was Voldemort trying to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries in an attempt to trick him into retrieving the prophecy for him, or was he just so focused on that damn prophecy that his obsession was bleeding into Harry's mind as well?

Yes, Harry had reason to be angry, perhaps more than anyone else in Hogwarts. He had been used for a disgusting dark ritual, had been unable to save Cedric, and it was only the beginning. With a snort, Harry thought it could be worse. He had managed to conceal his relationship with Draco from his family. The fallout from that revelation would have been messy.

Still, Harry hadn't had an outburst of anger, something so beyond his control, since he was a small child. Uncontrolled emotional outbursts were dangerous in the wizarding world, but especially for Harry.

He simply could not afford to lose control like that, not in the current political climate, and not with the potential effects of his temper. Neither of his parents, and none of his various teachers over the years had ever said it, but Harry suspected if he got angry enough he could accidentally kill someone... or worse. If the situation was just right Harry had no doubt he could bring down Hogwarts herself.

The source of his anger was what confused him, frustrated him. He had no ability to push it back. It flared unexpectedly and without warning, even sometimes when he was alone and his mind on some innocuous subject.

All he knew was it had something to do with Voldemort, and Harry did not particularly want to examine the possibilities too closely.

Only the foolish would entertain thoughts of Voldemort leaving Harry alone, especially after that spring. Though it irritated him that his parents would not let him learn anything about Order business, Harry knew that was not the root of his anger. The anger was too strong for that.

It was with not a little trepidation that Harry entered the Potions classroom.

The scene he was presented with, however, was almost enough to make him laugh out loud and forget why he was there. With Neville in his class Harry had witnessed the less... personable... side of Severus Snape often, but this was almost too much.

The second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were rigid in their seats, or most of them were. A select few were shaking in fear.

"What were you thinking?" Severus hissed, a tone generally much more dangerous than his bellow. Only someone who knew the Potions Master well would be able to discern that he was only moments from laughter.

The poor Hufflepuff girl covered in pink goo, which was dripping of her face and robes onto the floor, stuttered out her response, "I... I don't know..."

There was someone completely inept at brewing in every year it seemed.

"Well perhaps you can tell me what possessed you to use diced shrivelfig in this potion when shrivelfig of any preparation is not one of the ingredients." Snape's eyes were narrowed and the errant Hufflepuff just gulped.

Now Harry understood why Snape was so amused. He knew what the first potion in second year was... and wracking his brain he knew what adding shrivelfig would do to the potion. At least with Neville's depth of knowledge in Herbology he never confused ingredients.

A snort of laughter escaped Harry's lips, drawing attention his way from everyone in the room. If anything, the fear only increased as many eyes widened and Harry had to restrain from rolling his eyes.

"Should you not be in Defense Against the Dark Arts Mr. Potter?" Severus only barely changed his tone.

Harry held up the pink piece of parchment he was clutching as he walked towards his Head of House, and saw the sneer coming before it even crossed Severus's face. "Professor Umbridge sent me down."

Severus snatched the parchment out his hands, read it quickly, and put it on his desk, probably wishing to be associated with the color pink as little as possible. He was not being very successful that morning.

"In my office Potter," Severus ordered tersely, his face completely void of expression. "I will speak with you after class."

Any hope the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had of early dismissal were dashed. Harry left the room as Severus resumed snapping at the unfortunate Hufflepuff who had ruined her potion, subtracting copious points in the process.

All sound from the classroom was snuffed as Harry closed the office door, Severus's silencing wards going into effect. There were comfortable chairs set in front of the inactive fireplace, chairs that few students ever saw. Harry sat in one, knowing he had at least thirty minutes to wait before his Head of House joined him.

Harry needed those thirty minutes.

He couldn't let it show in front of Umbridge, or the second year Potions students, but the uncharacteristic explosion of temper at such little provocation had him shaken to the core.

With nothing more than a thought he lit a fire in the grate for use as a focal point in his meditation like Remus had taught him. He needed to regain control, and to go deeper than usual and examine his shielding and personal wards.

Doing so would make him vulnerable, as he could not protect himself while in trance, so Harry erected his own ward on the office, neatly meshing it in with the myriad of wards that Severus maintained. Simply, he assured that only he who had cast the initial wards could enter the room, or even open the door, without Harry's permission. Not even someone accompanying Severus would gain entry.

Secure in the knowledge that would not be interrupted unnecessarily or attacked while in a vulnerable state, Harry sank into a trance where he could examine his mind and his magic in minute detail. It was a much deeper state of concentration than any other meditative technique Harry employed.

Time became irrelevant as Harry probed his defenses. He had begun to learn the process almost before he could remember. It was the beginning of how Remus had guided him into calming himself and gaining control over his emotions and his unusual talents.

As he learned more advanced magic, and defenses such as Occlumency, new levels had been introduced into the meditation, to the point where as familiar, or perhaps even more familiar with the patterns and textures of his magic and the protections surrounding his mind and his person as he was with his own physical body.

Harry was assured that all his defenses were perfectly in place, which meant that if something external was affecting him, it was something he did not know how to defend against. The problem with magic was that the possibilities were almost limitless, especially if dark magic was involved.

Only the very edge of his consciousness registered the sound of the office door slamming shut and it took several moments for that portion of his mind to communicate with the rest and alert him to the presence of his Head of House. Slowly, he brought himself back, a very mild level of frustration making itself known as he did so yet evaporating swiftly, and he turned his eyes to Severus.

The pink parchment was held in Severus's hand, his dark eyes glittering with displeasure, "Explain yourself."

SEVERUS returned to his desk after flicking his wand to clean off Miss Fillton of Hufflepuff. His glare was more than sufficient to keep the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw second year class from uttering so much as a peep. Additionally, they were too cowed by his lecture to cause any further accidents that morning. The better students would ensure their less talented counterparts made no mistakes.

His glare briefly lit upon the garish pink parchment his _colleague_, the terms used with extreme reluctance, favored. Just the sight caused a furious diatribe to begin in his head.

It was completely unlike Potter, much more something his mutt of a godfather or brat of a little sister would do. Severus had told the boy time after time to keep those infuriating Gryffindorish tendencies on a tight leash, yet they continued to escape at the most inopportune times.

When class ended the brats left the room even more quickly than usual, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his evident ire. As soon as the room was emptied he locked the door, thankful that it was time for lunch and so he had more than enough free time.

Outside the door of his office he took a moment to admire the adjustment to his warding. It took a significant level of power and knowledge to incorporate wards into the work of another wizard, and Harry had done so seamlessly. He did have to wonder exactly what his student was doing in his office to merit such warding.

The answer to his question was obvious when he entered. Harry was floating a few inches above the surface of the chair where he sat cross-legged, his eyes shut, his body completely relaxed. There was a soft wind in the room, presumably what was levitating Harry. For some reason he was meditating, and rather deeply.

It would take some time for Harry to come out of the trance once he realized Severus was there. That gave Severus space to observe his student and decide exactly what course of action to take with the trouble-magnet Slytherin.

Harry's eyes blinked a few times before opening and focusing on Severus as the young man settled gently on the chair.

"Explain yourself," Severus demanded.

The young Slytherin's face was blank, almost slack, but the air was tense and the wind continued. Something was upsetting Harry but it didn't show, "I can't."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Such a reply would immediately land most students in detention, but over the years he found that even he made exceptions for Harry Potter. From allowing the son of his schoolyard enemy into his personal quarters, to regular dueling practice, Severus was becoming more familiar with Harry than with any previous student. Harry even spent more time with Severus than Draco did, despite Draco's status as Severus's godson.

"Can you tell me exactly what you did to land yourself in a week's worth of detention with that Ministry idiot?" Severus's voice held a warning that Harry had better come up with something better than 'I can't,' despite the closeness between professor and student. Severus knew he was something between mentor and friend to the younger Slytherin, a position that crept up on them both.

"A week?" Harry's widened only momentarily, still too relaxed from the effects of his mediation for a worse reaction. He sighed, "I told her that Voldemort is back."

Severus restrained himself from flinching at the mention of his _Master's_ name though he felt his face tighten.

"What possessed you...?" Severus let the end of his trail off when he saw Harry's face darken, eyebrows drawing down and brow furrowing.

"I... don't... know," Harry was clearly not pleased, not that anyone other than Black or Potter Sr. ever rejoiced at the notion of a week of detention. "I haven't been that angry in more than ten years, and that ridiculous bint shouldn't be able to provoke me the way she did. It doesn't make any sense."

There was more Severus knew, as Harry was clearly deep in thought, but he would save it for the moment.

"She gave you a full week for saying the Dark Lord is back?" Severus was incredulous. He was known to be a harsh disciplinarian, but he rarely gave out more than two or three days, even when foisting the miscreants off on Argus Filch.

Harry's frown morphed into a sneer to rival Draco's, "For lying to a teacher."

"You must tread cautiously Harry..."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry almost snapped at Severus. Despite their closer relationship Harry had never raised his voice in anger or interrupted Severus before. It was unlike him. "I've read the Prophet. For Merlin's sake, I was tried before the full court for protecting myself and others even though I'm exempt from the Underage Restrictions! I listened to her bloody speech at the feast. Fudge wants me out of the way, or fully discredited at least. He'd have me in Azkaban if he could figure out a good enough excuse."

Severus could not help but silently agree. Delores Umbridge had most likely been charged with not only getting as much information as possible, but also making Potter as miserable as possible and creating problems for Albus.

"That he will not succeed at Harry," Severus reassured the unnatural emotional young man, who seemed to be calming again, and examined his student more closely. It was only then that he noticed there was no fuel for the fire burning in his fireplace. Harry had to be controlling it, while not giving it any obvious attention. His abilities were growing.

Harry snorted, "Dad and Siri would end up in there with me if he did."

Of that Severus had no doubt. Those two would do anything to protect the eldest Potter offspring, who with his talents would probably escape the fortress prison with relative ease. Dementors did not like fire. After being thrown into Azkaban for trying to prevent Harry's imprisonment, it would likely be Harry that would rescue his father and godfather.

The Potions Master summoned an elf and had lunch brought to them as he had no doubt their talk would last through the meal.

"What is troubling you?" Severus asked Harry as he sipped at his tea, the two having consumed their meal with only light talk that would not disrupt digestion.

Relief showed in those green eyes briefly, "You know you're the only one to ask me this summer? Draco already knew, as I told him as it all happened. My family, though, assumed they knew exactly was wrong." The eyes closed briefly and the head dipped. "To give them credit there are enough evident explanations without going fishing for more that's wrong."

Severus drank his tea and gave his student some time. He knew from the body posture and lack of elemental disturbances that Harry was forming his answer before speaking, yet another trait that set him apart from his mostly Gryffindor family.

"I can't always control my emotions now. I don't know why, and I'm concerned something will occur as a result."

"You suspect why."

"I get angry for no reason whatsoever. Once, I was feeling elation with no cause." It was then that Harry lifted his head. He was glaring off at nothing tangible, his jaw muscles taut, but it was a controlled anger. There was no fire, no wind, no deluge. "My scar has been prickling since last spring, yet burns after my dreams, and I've noticed that the prickling increases slightly during these bouts of foreign emotion."

"You believe you're channeling him." Severus did not need to ask; the implications were obvious. He also knew that Harry was an accomplished Occlumens, which meant that the dreams and emotions could not be blocked by any conventional means.

"I need your help Severus," Harry looked to Severus again, and dropped the glare. He would not beg, as it was unbecoming of a Slytherin, as so his expression was neutral. "I may be able to take my O.W.L.s tomorrow and a handful of N.E.W.T.s as well, but I have no delusions of grandeur. I have just been taught more and studied harder. I cannot discover a way to block this connection on my own."

"I will begin my research tonight," Severus assured the young man who was likely his favorite student.

Assessing Harry once more, Severus found a deep feeling of pride in the man he was becoming. He knew that he had some measure of influence in that. As Harry left to ensure he was not late for his afternoon classes Severus was already organizing his thoughts on Harry's problem.

HARRY entered his room late that night, knowing that there was someone inside thanks to his wards, so he was not surprised at the shape of a person lying on his bed with only a few candles lit.

He had spent most of the night in the library with Hermione and Neville, working on the homework already assigned, thankful that his detentions did not start until the following night. The professors seemed determined to prepare for the O.W.L. exams, all except Umbridge of course, but she was piling on the homework as well.

What Harry did not expect was the sound of muffled sobbing.

"Tracey?"

Upon hearing her name, the girl lifted her head from Harry's feather comforter and saw him standing at the edge of the bed. She flung herself at him and started crying even harder before.

"Shh," Harry did his best to comfort her without knowing what the problem was. He lit a fire in the fireplace and stroked her back as he knew his sister liked when she was upset.

After a short time the crying diminished and the girl was just shaking against him, her head buried in his chest.

"What is it?" Harry questioned her softly, doing his best not to set her off again.

"T-Ted," Tracey answered and Harry just barely stopped himself from cringing. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this was heading. Theodore Nott was one of those that had been shooting heated glares in Harry's direction.

"He broke up with you?" Harry kept his voice soft.

Tracey didn't give any sign of noticing when the hidden door in Harry's room opened and Draco entered. Harry just waved a hand in his direction, hoping Draco would get the message and not interrupt.

"He...," Tracey took a deep a breath. "He told me he couldn't be with someone with such dirty blood." Then her voice took a decidedly nasty tone, "not that he cared one whit about my blood when he had me in his bed."

"Your mum's a muggle, isn't she," Harry knew the answer without a response. It was the only thing that made sense, as the Davis family was typically pureblood, "and your older sisters are squibs."

All sorts of things were coming together in his mind. Tracey hadn't cared about his placement from the first night. She had also been terribly misinformed about wizarding sex education, but later on he had figured that her family was like Draco's and hadn't told her anything. He suspected he was in the minority, and that the book Sirius gave him was not something found in most households.

Tracey nodded, "Dad's just barely above a squib. He made it through Hogwarts, and the family managed to get him a job in the Ministry, but he's in the Muggle Liaison Office. That's how he met Mum."

"I'm so sorry," Harry was growing angry with Nott for giving in to his prejudices over his feelings for Tracey, but he didn't let it show.

Tracey just laughed a little brittle laugh, "I guess we're in the same boat, huh? I'm just glad my first time wasn't with him. I can never thank you enough for that Harry."

Harry had seen what was coming and tried to stop her, but the damage was done. As she started to sniffle again he turned his head just slightly and saw Draco's face frozen in anger, his eyes cold. The blond slipped out of Harry's room as silently as he had entered.

Tracey left the room eventually and Harry stayed awake the entire night, hoping that Draco would come back. He couldn't dare enter Draco's room, as there could be a Voldemort supporting Slytherin in there.

Harry didn't have another visitor all night, and the next morning Draco would not even look at him.

He was dreading his detentions with Umbridge more than ever.

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Outtake: This scene I had originally planned to incorporate, but cut it out to ensure a better flow. It takes place shortly following the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.

.:O:.

"Lucius," James Potter greeted as the man walked into his office. "Until you showed your face here I actually thought you had at least some semblance of intelligence."

He was standing with his wand gripped firmly, silently urging the man to give him an excuse to curse him into the next century.

"I did not come to insult you, nor to be insulted," Lucius Malfoy's grip on his silver-headed cane was loose, his ease showing how sure he was of his safety from the Head Auror.

James narrowed his eyes, not in the mood for games. Even if there had not been extensive wards on his office he would have continued, entirely unconcerned with being overheard.

"You tried to kill my son not more than two days ago. The Minister may not believe him, but you know as well as I do that Harry can never lie to me." James's smile took on a malicious cast, "Looking forward to taking the lead in Muggle torture again Lucius."

"Not particularly," Lucius replied dryly. He sat down in one of the plush leather armchairs that faced the desk and laid his cane across his lap so that his wand was still readily available. "Try ignoring the burning of the Mark James. The pain is more than you can imagine."

James did not reply. He sat back down and glared across his desk.

Lucius sighed, "I find myself in an awkward position James. I will not argue my guilt or innocence with you, only that of my son. Should he return to Malfoy Manor this summer he will be exposed to... associates of mine that I prefer he have no contact with. I do not like you or your wife, but I have come to respect Harry, even find myself impressed at times.

"For what it is worth I did not try to kill him. If he said otherwise he is mistaken, or he is much more of a Slytherin than many credit him."

"You want your son to spend the summer at Potter Manor?" James looked at the man across from him in confusion rather than his earlier hatred. This possibility had never even occurred to him as the topic for conversation when Lucius appeared in his doorway.

"Discreetly, if possible," Lucius affirmed plainly. "I will have to make excuses for his absence from the Manor and I would prefer that the Prophet not print otherwise."

"Very well Lucius," James felt very odd making an agreement with a Malfoy and wondered if he was inviting a viper into his home. Then again, Snivellous would be there often enough, "if only because Harry and Draco are friends."

The smug look on Lucius's face and the sudden glint to his silvery eyes made James wonder exactly what was going through the man's mind, and if he really wanted to know.

"Thank you."

"That must have hurt," James smirked at the arrogant blond man.

"You have no idea," Lucius spoke without emotion as he stood and exited the office of the Head Auror.

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	58. Chapter 58

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**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

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Severus Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose as he slipped through the corridors of Hogwarts, listening for any signs of errant students. He had a massive headache and would prefer to be warmly ensconced in his chambers with a nice, full decanter of single-malt, but it was his night to patrol. At least the night was almost over. Not even taking copious points from a pair of amorous Hufflepuffs – why they weren't using their common room he did not bother to consider – had offered any relief.

It was all the fault of one student, or rather two. After all, if it were not for Harry, Draco would not have invaded Severus's study earlier, almost irrational in his upset. Ten minutes had passed before Severus even discovered what was wrong with his godson. All he had deciphered at first was that Harry had done something and Draco was distraught.

_"He slept with her!"_

_Draco had eventually blurted out the reason for his state, and Severus had been stunned for a brief moment, until he analyzed the situation and what he knew of the Potter family._

_"Who is 'she'," Severus question his godson, "and when did this happen?"_

_"Tracey Davis, and I don't know," Draco paused in his near-panic long enough to actually think. "It had to be before Tracey and Ted were together, which meant it was before last year, and it couldn't have been over the summer..."_

_Severus, beyond thankful that his godson was no longer rambling insensibly, poured the young man a cup of tea laced with calming potion._

_"So Harry did not cheat on you," he made sure his godson took in that much before continuing. This was certainly a delicate situation, and he would be scolding Harry at first opportunity for not being upfront with Draco. "What kind of home did Harry have as a child? What were his influences?"_

_Draco did not answer. He stared into his cup of tea and swallowed deeply, clearly fighting back tears. Severus understood exactly what was going on and cursed the Board of Governors once more for leaving sexual education in the hands of parents. This was not the first hurdle of this sort to appear at Hogwarts._

_The two young men came from diametrically opposed households. The Malfoys were stiff and proper, and Severus doubted the word 'sex' had ever even been spoken in Draco's presence. From a young age Draco was not encouraged to question his elders. To ask his father about sex would never even occur to him. Severus also suspected that the Malfoys would hold to the old beliefs regarding relationships, as they did regarding so many other things._

_Harry grew up with his curiosity rewarded time and again. His questions were always answered, and depending on whom he asked, the answer might vary greatly. Given what Severus knew of the past several years, he thought it a safe assumption that Harry's sex education had come from Black, the playboy of the wizarding world. Even if it hadn't, Severus knew that Black had brought 'home' multiple partners, and the Potters spent a great amount of time in the muggle world._

_"He will not understand what he has done wrong, Draco," Severus sighed, wishing there was an easier way to explain the vast differences between their upbringing, but Draco simply did not have the experience necessary to fully understand. "Harry may feel guilty for not telling you, but the fact that he was not a virgin before you will not even occur to him as a problem."_

_At that Draco flushed bright red, "We haven't... I mean, we've done... stuff... but not..."_

_Severus raised an eyebrow, a small part of him deeply amused at Draco's discomfort. He then leaned forward, prepared to shock his godson deeply, perhaps enough that the younger man would be able to talk through this problem._

_"Do you think I am a virgin Draco? I am not, and have never been, bonded to anyone."_

_The red hue on Draco's cheeks deepened and spread to his neck and ears. The young Slytherin was mortified._

_"I never thought about that Sev," Draco eventually managed to speak when it was clear Severus would not say anything._

_It was not just his regard for both his Slytherins that prompted him to speak so freely. The plan they had concocted that summer, which hinged on so many variables that Severus did not want to think about all that might go wrong, would be nothing if Harry and Draco could not work together. Even if their romantic entanglement ended it was imperative that they remain friends._

_"There was a time when I might have bonded Draco," Severus admitted. He did not want to reveal this portion of his life to anyone, let alone an adolescent, but Draco was woefully naive, and Lucius would never do a thing about it. "She was from an old family, but her parents were willing to overlook my father. After all, I was the Dark Lord's only Potions Master, a position of high esteem."_

_"What happened?" Draco was enthralled, as Severus wanted, and his own troubles were briefly forgotten._

_"She was killed in a raid," Severus shut his eyes as the pain came back, the memory of watching Camille Rosier fall in the wash of green spell light. "I do not know to this day which side the curse came from."_

_Draco bit his lip and looked down into his tea once more, "I'm sorry Sev."_

_Severus hardened once more, shutting away the pain, "I am not telling you to make you pity me. Cam and I were waiting for marriage, and to this day I regret that. We loved, but never fully. Since then, some traditions I have ignored for the anachronisms they are."_

It had taken far too long, and was far more personal and painful than Severus preferred, but eventually Draco left his rooms no long confused and upset, but still angry. That Severus was completely comfortable with. Harry deserved some amount of strife for holding back as much as he did, even if the younger man had no idea he was doing wrong.

Severus Snape fully believed experience was the best teacher.

At last, the Astronomy Tower and library were empty of couples. Why they lacked the imagination to find other places to explore each other Severus would never know. Slytherins in general would probably remain unaware of the better hiding spots for trysts as almost all their relationships occurred with other Slytherins, and thus remained out of the corridors after curfew.

He began to circle back towards the dungeons. If he was lucky, he would not encounter the Weasley twins that night. Far too many times he caught merely a glimpse of two identical heads of red hair, only to spend hours in fruitless search. He would think they owned an invisibility cloak if he did not know better. Many times, Severus had suspected that they tempted him with their capture on purpose, and laughed about it in their room as he combed the halls for any hint of their presence.

Luck was with him that night, to some degree, as his trip back to the dungeons was blissfully solitary, giving him more than enough time to consider charming away his headache. He was never very good at charms though. It remained his single weak subject.

Being so open and... emotional with his godson was almost unprecedented, and he blamed Harry. That boy had spent far too much time in his rooms, and had actually chipped away at his shields. Severus was closer to having an actual friend in that student than he had been with anyone in years. Lucius and Narcissa he discounted, as neither would ever dream of expressing much emotion in his presence. They were close, but there would always be a certain level of formality between them. Albus, as his employer, a sometime substitute father figure, and being several generations older could never fill that position in his life.

As if thinking of the devil brought his presence closer, Severus spotted a familiar messy head of hair loitering outside the door to his chambers. He groaned inwardly, not wanting to repeat the conversation he had earlier with Draco. He would just send Harry on his way and suggest rather strongly that he reveal any further skeletons in his closet to Draco before they were accidentally exposed.

Thoughts of Draco were chased from his mind when Harry turned at the sound of Severus approaching, or perhaps even at the change in air currents or temperature for all he knew. The skin that normally shone with a healthy tan was unnaturally pale, and the right hand was clasped firmly in the left. Blood seeped out from between.

"What are you doing here Potter?" Severus's harsh tones were automatic, as he spent his previous hours disciplining idiots and his headache still throbbed.

Harry looked up at his Head of House, his eyes bright, almost feverish, and to Severus's knowledge Harry had never once had a fever, "I need your help sir."

Severus looked at him with a piercing expression. His attempt at surface Legilimency was almost a reflex, and far easier for the most part than questioning students he knew would not answer honestly. The rebuff from Harry's Occlumency reminded Severus that he still had not discussed that unusual knowledge with his student.

"Inside Potter."

Harry nodded and followed Severus into his chambers. Indicating that Harry should sit on the sofa in front of his fireplace, Severus went to his study and brought back the scotch he had been considering earlier. As Harry was technically of age, it was perfectly legal to share a drink, if frowned upon by the Governors.

"Didn't you have detention with Professor Umbridge this evening?" Severus asked sharply as he poured drinks for them both.

Severus simply did not need any added stress, yet he knew it was coming. Not only did he have to meet with the Dark Lord on a regular basis and lie to the murdering psychopath, and then relate it all to the Order, he was also researching ways to break the connection between Harry and the Dark Lord and hide it from Albus and the Order. More trouble concerning Delores Umbridge than already existed was not at all welcome.

"That's why I need your help sir," Harry said quietly as he exposed his bleeding hand. He stifled a cry of pain when Severus roughly grabbed it to look closer. All that came out was a hiss.

"This is your handwriting Potter," Severus made his hold on Harry's hand a bit more gentle, recognizing the hiss for what it was. Though he already suspected the answer he had to ask. "How did this happen?"

"Black quill, she made me write lines, and it appeared on my hand," Harry looked down, clearly ashamed that he found himself in this situation.

The curses coming out of Severus's mouth would have made his father wash out his mouth with soap when he was younger. Severus left the office for a few minutes and returned holding a bowl of something green and gelatinous.

"Soak your hand in that," Severus realized he sounded almost compassionate and refrained from rolling his eyes at himself. "It will help."

Harry nodded and submersed his hand. He instantly showed the relief, "Thank you."

"Look at me, and do not shield yourself," Severus ordered. When Harry shook his head he continued, "I will only look at your detention tonight. I need to know more about that quill."

Harry hesitantly lifted his head and made eye contact with his professor. He had struggled not to block the invasion of his thoughts, Severus felt as entered the young man's mind. He could sense that several memories were still locked behind barriers but he was unconcerned with those. All he was looking for were the previous few hours, which he did his best to analyze dispassionately, despite the anger that rose within. The utter gall that woman had, to use a decidedly illegal dark object on _his_ student.

"It is lucky you can overcome the Imperious Curse," Severus said thoughtfully after he pulled out of Harry's mind, keeping his anger carefully hidden away. "Avoid truth serums at all costs Harry. They will only compound the compunction put on you by the quill."

Harry nodded, and his head had to be throbbing from the brief Legilimency, after reluctantly allowing the intrusion while still protecting some of his thoughts. He took his hand out of the bowl and flexed it before putting it back in, "Sir, Draco can't..."

Severus snorted, knowing that Harry had no idea just how angry and upset Draco had been and did not expect the tongue lashing he would receive fairly soon.

"Yes Harry. No doubt Draco would curse that woman hard enough to cause permanent damage should he learn of this. Keep your hand in the murtlap. I will be right back." He was not about to enlighten the young man. To some extent Harry deserved Draco's ire.

"Yes sir," Harry put his left elbow next to the bowl and let his head rest in his free hand.

Severus summoned a few books from his study. He did pity Harry to some extent, as he knew some of what was coming for the young man. "You must be strong Potter. This is only the beginning."

"I know," Harry sighed and finally looked up. "I just don't see how things will get better."

"You are far too young to lose hope Harry," Severus shook his head. He felt almost sad as he reached towards Harry, and marveled again at how close he was growing to this particular student. "Give me your hand."

Severus cast a cleaning spell to get rid of the murtlap on Harry's hand before he examined it more closely and then flipped through one of his books. He settled on a page and turned it for Harry to read.

"Concealment Charms," Harry read aloud and looked up at the professor. "They've never worked on me." Severus raised an eyebrow. "I tried to cover my scar, but none of the charms will work."

"That may just be the scar," Severus replied, thinking of other possible causes, none of which made any sense where Harry was concerned. The Potters never would have limited their son in such a way. "It was made with powerful dark magic. It would take much more than your standard glamour to cover that scar, as it does to hide the Dark Mark."

Harry nodded, "If I cover it though, won't Umbridge wonder? I shouldn't be able to cast a glamour yet."

"This is a knowledge based glamour Harry," Severus instructed as he sat back. Despite what many students thought of him, he truly did enjoy teaching, though some students more than others. "Anyone already aware of the effects of that quill will see the marks. Be sure that it covers touch as well. I am sure my godson would wonder at a change in the texture of your skin with no visual evidence."

Severus could not refrain from smirking, knowing that however comfortable Harry was around him, the topic of his relationship with Draco would always make the younger Slytherin uneasy. Harry knew that Severus was very protective of those he was close to, and Draco was his only godchild. What Severus found amusing was that Harry did not count himself in that group yet, whereas Severus knew he would go to extreme lengths to protect the young man sitting across from him.

Harry's cheeks were just slightly flushed in embarrassment. He had no way of knowing that Draco had blurted out the extent of their activities just the evening before, but the couple had been together for nearly a full year. Only an idiot would think their relationship still chaste.

His thoughts taking a turn towards the implications of Umbridge's actions, Severus tried to think of how he could protect Harry. The quill itself was a dark object, and would leave a residue of darkness on the user, not the one who forced its use.

"There is more danger than the compulsion from the quill and the possibility of others seeing its marks," Severus changed the subject as Harry finished casting the glamour.

Harry narrowed his eyes, "I could feel the darkness from the quill before I ever began writing."

Proud of his student, Severus nodded, "And that darkness is now reflected in your magic, as you have used the object."

Emerald eyes closed tightly and Harry's entire carriage stiffened. The temperature in the room dropped just slightly, yet the fire in his fireplace grew. The son of the Head Auror, Harry had to know the implications.

"And if Fudge is looking for even more ways to discredit me, all he has to do is order a scan."

Severus hesitated. The only way he knew to fix the problem was illegal, but then there was next to no chance of them getting caught. After all, Umbridge would have to admit that she used her authority as a professor to force Harry into using a dark object in order to prove that there had once been a dark taint.

"There is a potion that was used extensively by lower Death Eaters in the last war to escape Azkaban. Those more visible, such as Lucius, relied on the Imperius defense, and therefore had to show some taint in their magic." Severus explained the nature of the potion, how it cleansed the system in such a way that whatever darkness would normally show in a scan of the user's magic was washed away with no trace. Only questioning under Veritaserum would reveal the use of the potion. "It is painful though."

"Worse than Cruciatus?" Harry asked him shrewdly.

The fact that both of them could easily make the comparison was no comfort, "No, but the pain is longer lasting. Unless the caster is trying to drive their victims insane, Cruciatus is never held for more than a minute at a time. This pain will last a few hours or more, depending on the amount of purging required."

Harry nodded and stood, pacing the room a bit before stopping in front of the still roaring fire. He turned, almost a silhouette with that bright flame behind him, yet his eyes still shone as emeralds caught in the sun. "Will my scar affect it?"

Severus winced inwardly, "I cannot tell. As you know, there is no precedent for anything concerning that particular scar."

"Then we should start before it gets too late. For all we know there will be Aurors here to arrest me in the morning." Harry's face was grim, and it was no wonder.

Severus had to wonder if James Potter would go as far as arresting his Heir in order to protect his position at the Ministry. And if he did, what good was holding that position? Harry was clearly having the same thoughts, and Severus contemplated how things had gotten so bad at the Potter household that Harry could not trust his own father.

Leaving the room he keyed into the special wards that hid a cabinet in a hidden room. It was dangerous to keep such things in Hogwarts, but his position as spy for the Order demanded he have some of them on hand. He selected the potion in question, a sickly puce color, and then made sure the wards were still intact.

Severus had consumed Repurgo Sanies several times, keeping his own levels of darkness as expected for one who spied but was still required to perform a number of distasteful acts. The wizarding world would never accept the extent of what he had to do to get them their precious information.

Harry was seated, meditating again, when Severus returned. It was unwelcome, but Severus had to question him before using the potion, or he would not be prepared for the results.

When Harry looked up, Severus began, "Have you ever cast any spells that could taint your magic?"

"No." Luckily, very few of those actually existed.

"Have you consumed any potions that could taint you, or used any dark objects other than that quill?"

"No."

"Is your scar paining you now?"

Harry blinked once before answering, "It twinges, but no more than what I usually feel."

It was still a gamble, but a necessary one. Severus scanned Harry's magic, and there was a definite taint. The younger man would need to return after each detention, but luckily would only need a lesser dose. The first purge was always the worst.

"Lie down, and center yourself," Severus instructed, still somewhat apprehensive. He hated that he was forced into this, and cursed Albus and Fudge thoroughly in his mind. Those two fools were destroying Harry with their games.

When it was clear that Harry was as ready as one could ever be for taking a potion such as this, Severus handed him the vial. Eyes shut, Harry downed the potion in one swallow to ward against the correctly assumed foul taste. It took a few moments to begin its work, but when the potion did start to clean Harry's magic it was obvious.

The young man's eyes flew open and his back arched in pain, his breath coming in heavy pants. Severus's hand twitched towards his wand, but there was nothing he could do. The flames in the fireplace leapt higher than ever before, scorching the inside of the chimney. Harry's hands gripped the fabric of the couch tight enough that his knuckles turned white.

After an agonizing ten minutes spent fighting the pain, Harry finally gave in and screamed. A black cloud formed around his body and dissipated into the air as the darkness was leeched from his system.

One hour in, Severus could no longer stand and watch. He had caused others pain many times, but it was never someone he cared for. The first glass of whiskey slid down his throat barely noticed, followed quickly by a second and third, but then he paced himself. Severus needed to be able to assess the progress of the potion and the success once it ran its course.

Another two hours slowly passed and Harry fell unconscious. Once the potion finished, Severus did not have the heart to rouse him. He conducted his scans and found no trace of darkness in Harry's magic.

Conjuring up a blanket and pillow, Severus tucked Harry into the couch, an act he had not performed for anyone since Draco was a small child. He could not stop himself from brushing the hair off the younger man's forehead and studying his sleep-relaxed face. With his composed mask gone, and the pain a distant memory, his face was smooth, almost child-like still on the cusp of adulthood.

For the first time, Severus was thankful for the fight between Draco and Harry, as it meant that Harry would not be missed that evening. He could wake the young man in the morning and send him back to his room, but just then Severus could not disturb such peaceful sleep.

Merlin knew Severus would not get any that night.

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	59. Chapter 59

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**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

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Draco was biding his time, as much as it hurt to do so. Each night, he would stare at his door to Harry's room, tempted to walk through, have it out with his partner, and climb back into the security of Harry's bed. Each night, he resisted.

Though the talk with Severus had clarified several things for Draco, he knew, with startling clarity, that this would be his last chance to assess exactly what he was doing, and where this relationship was going.

For months Draco's world had been eclipsed by Harry. If he was not eating, sleeping, or studying then his mind was on Harry, and even then he would dream of Harry in his sleep, thoughts of Harry would distract him from his studies, and Harry eating just a few seats away would pull his attention.

It was an obsession he realized, and what he had to determine was if the obsession was healthy. If it wasn't, did he even care? Was it a terrible thing to gauge his reactions by whether or not Harry would approve? And if the answers to all these questions meant he should end things now, before he took that final step, was it already too late?

So days passed by and Draco still had not spoken to Harry. He ignored the chatter around him during breakfast in the great hall and fought the urge to pull Harry aside and ask him about his detentions with Umbridge. The woman had been looking terribly smug, and Harry, all alone at the foot table with several seats empty between him and the closest Slytherin, was looking particularly cowed.

Of course it was a mask. It had to be a mask. Nothing that bitch could do would break Harry, and so quickly. He only wanted her to think she had.

The thought was something of a comfort, but Draco was still anxious.

Something across the hall caught his eye, as well as the eye of every professor and a good number of other students. Two red heads were bent together, clearly plotting, something that never boded well, and with Umbridge right there it was wholly unexpected.

Then the Weasley twins stood, latched onto Hermione Granger on each side, and approached the Slytherin table with her between them, stopping across from Harry.

"It seems that Slytherin has abandoned you Harry," Fred announced, the entire hall watching.

"And while students are required to eat at their own House tables," George began.

"Prefects from other Houses may extend an invitation to a student from another House," Fred continued.

At that both twins looked at the girl between them and it was clear why they had dragged her with them. It was no surprise to anyone there that the twins were intimately familiar with the rules governing the students of Hogwarts. They would have to be to have broken so many of them.

Hermione flushed, but recovered quickly. Her voice was prim and proper as she ignored the stares from the entire hall, "Harry Potter, as Prefect of Gryffindor House I extend to you a formal invitation to dine with us at any meal should you so desire."

Another reason they had chosen Hermione had to be her own encyclopedic knowledge of Hogwarts rules and codes of conduct. She, of all the prefects, would know the formal wording necessary to stop any objection that the professors, or one professor in particular, might voice.

"I accept," Harry's voice was soft, but still clearly heard as there was no other sound in the hall.

He stood from Slytherin and made his way across the hall, where the twins made room for him to sit between them, essentially protecting him from any Gryffindors that might object to his presence. No Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw for that matter, was willing to get on the twins' list of potential victims.

"I wondered how long it would take," Blaise commented across from Draco as conversation in the hall picked up once more before spearing a neatly cut piece of sausage and dipping it in maple syrup.

Draco snorted, keeping in character, "What a waste of brain cells."

Blaise merely raised his eyebrows and Draco had a moment of uncomfortable doubt. Did Blaise see through his façade? It was a risk that they had accepted, and they had allowed for the possibility of either Obliviating a few Slytherins or confiding in those that proved trustworthy. Draco had a small store of Veritaserum in his room just in case he was confronted.

Of course, Harry had eaten at Gryffindor before, but could not afford to break any rule, no matter how obscure, with Umbridge watching. The professors had ignored it in the past, as many students had siblings in other Houses and would join them on occasion, but she would not let any infraction slip by.

Draco was relieved, though like Blaise, he and Harry had expected this move eventually. Harry's friends in Gryffindor would not sit idly by while Harry suffered.

It also took away some measure of guilt as well. After all, by avoiding Harry Draco had left the other Slytherin utterly alone, with no one to freely talk to where he could let down all his masks. None of the Gryffindors, no matter how close they were to Harry, knew of their plan. It was safer that way.

Classes were boring, more than usual. Draco despised the image he had to maintain in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He would much prefer to actually practice some of those Arts labeled dark than work to gain the favor of that obnoxious woman by belittling Harry in her presence.

Luckily Harry's week of detentions was almost over and if he managed to keep his mouth shut he might avoid any further punishment. Draco just hoped Harry didn't have one of those bursts of foreign emotion around her. Nothing would explain them to her satisfaction.

He would talk to Harry that night, Draco decided, once Harry returned from detention. Draco could wait in Harry's room, and have the advantage of surprise when Harry returned. He would need it. All Harry had to do was kiss him, and Draco would be lost.

Rather than reading his chapter of Defense for the umpteenth time, Draco thought over what he would say to Harry.

He would certainly demand an explanation for that business with Davis and insist on knowing if there were any other liaisons hiding away. They had still been young when they started dating, but Harry's godfather _was_ the most infamous playboy of the wizarding world. Severus was right when he brought up the examples set for Harry when he was growing up.

It was also clear, based on that book and those magazines, that Harry had been taught a much more casual approach to personal interactions than Draco had. That realization alone had made Draco wonder exactly how serious Harry was about their relationship. They had never discussed _their_ future together, or just what they were to each other. After that first night it had been assumed that they were together.

Draco needed definition. He would not continue in any relationship that had no future. Not only had he been brought up to see that as wholly improper, but he couldn't be with Harry if Draco meant less to Harry than what Harry meant to him.

The class ended and the students silently packed away their books. Umbridge, in her sickeningly sweet tone, reminded Harry of his detention that night, almost taunting him with it. Harry responded with a simple, "Yes, Ma'am." Draco suspected he was the only one to see the anger smoldering in those emerald eyes.

With his entourage following, Draco led the way to first their rooms in Slytherin, and then to dinner. There was a quidditch meeting that night to discuss tryouts, which Harry would miss due to detention, and then Draco would have an hour or so until he expected Harry to return.

The quidditch meeting was fairly short as all they needed was a single chaser, and it would not be difficult to select. After all, they had already been watching the younger years for talent and had a good idea of who could fill the position. As Gryffindor was having their trials the next evening, Slytherin was booked for Saturday morning. Anyone who couldn't make a morning practice wouldn't survive on the team anyway.

Draco escaped to his room quickly, and through the connecting door to Harry's room. He activated Harry's wards that prevented anyone aside from Harry and Draco from entering and settled at Harry's desk to work on his Potions essay. It was his best subject, so the distraction of waiting for Harry to return would not ruin his work.

After only half an hour his own wards went off to alert him that someone was at his door. Due to Draco's prefect status he couldn't just ignore it, as anyone who had been in the common room during the quidditch meeting saw him go back to his room. Grumbling, Draco moved his work back to his room and his own desk before answering the door, not overly surprised to see Blaise there.

Blaise was one of those Slytherins that Harry and Draco did not have a firm sense about yet. It was no help that the Zabini family was split in their loyalties, some to the Dark Lord, and others either neutral or discreetly supporting the Ministry or Dumbledore. Typically, the branch Blaise belonged to was neutral, but that could have changed.

"What do you want?" Draco gave his year mate a hard look. They weren't truly friends. The only friends Draco could truly claim, apart from Harry, were Pansy, Greg, and Vince, whose fathers were all Marked. Of them he only trusted Pansy a little with his true feelings. Greg and Vince, while not quite as stupid as they portrayed, were by no means brilliant and could easily let something slip.

Blaise sauntered into his room and looked at the partial essay on his desk, no doubt picking up a few bits to include in his own, "I think you're playing a game with all of us. I just haven't figured out exactly who is being fooled."

"I do not have the time for your speculations, Blaise," Draco narrowed his eyes. He knew conversations like this one would happen several times over the next few years, likely several times that year alone. "Either speak your mind or get the hell out."

Blaise raised his eyebrows and smirked. He had hit a nerve somewhere and he knew it. Unfortunately for Blaise, he had no idea what he said that irritated Draco so could not reliably reproduce the effect.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Draco Malfoy. You are still seeing Harry. What I don't know is which side you're truly on, who you plan on betraying in the end." Draco said nothing, neither confirming nor denying. He merely glared at his fellow Slytherin. Blaise ignored him and picked up a trinket, fiddling with it as he continued talking. "You see, Draco, I may not be one of your lackeys, but I have always been observant. Since our first day here at Hogwarts Harry Potter has been the focus of your world. If you weren't fighting with him, you were conspiring with him, or you had your tongue down his throat. I think nothing has changed, and since you're not fighting..."

Draco rolled his eyes, "That's all? That's your cunning Slytherin logic? Is this some pathetic excuse at blackmail, Blaise? If it is, you can go fuck yourself, because it will not work."

"I'm not blackmailing you Draco," Blaise smirked at him, "not now anyway. I just thought I'd share my observations. After all, I can't be the only one making them."

Blaise left without anything further, and Draco immediately checked everything the other Slytherin had touched for potions, hexes, curses, or any residue of magic that was not his own. Even if Blaise had just dropped by to give a friendly, or not so friendly, warning, Draco did not trust him.

Grumbling to himself about Blaise, Draco sealed his door again, reset his wards, and returned to Harry's room to continue his wait. As he worked on his essays his impatience and irritation with the dark haired Slytherin grew. Draco Malfoy did not like waiting.

He began to check the time more frequently as curfew approached. Draco was not scheduled for rounds that night, either in House or of the castle in general, so no matter when Harry showed he would be there.

Curfew came and there was still no sign of Harry, and Draco began to worry. Umbridge was stretching this detention out much longer than Draco had expected. His mind began to conjure up all sorts of images of what she might be doing to Harry. Anxiety settled in.

Luckily, it was only shortly after curfew, only a few moments after Draco considered going to Severus and demanding he rescue Harry from Umbridge, when the door to Harry's room opened and the owner entered.

Sighing deeply, Harry immediately began shedding his uniform. Robes, shirt, and tie were all tossed unceremoniously onto the open door of his wardrobe. He toed off his shoes and pulled off his socks, leaving them draped over the shoes, before collapsing face first onto his bed.

Luckily for Draco, Harry left his trousers on. He doubted he could have gone ahead with his planned interrogation if Harry was naked, as a naked Harry was far too distracting. He decided to speak up immediately, as he could also not interrogate Harry if the shorter boy fell asleep.

"I know you're there Draco." Harry's voice was muffled by the bed coverings, not helped by the fact that he was on the opposite side of the room. "Just give me a moment, okay?"

Draco complied, and he straightened away his supplies, making sure all his work was separate from Harry's. It would not do at all for one of them to grab the wrong essay on the way out the door in the morning.

Done with that, Draco crossed the room and joined Harry on the bed, moving the pillows around so he could sit comfortably against the headboard, doing his best to ignore the tempting picture Harry made, half-naked and supine. Before long Harry looked up and raised himself to sit cross-legged.

"I owe you some explanations," Harry rubbed his face, clearly tired.

Brushing away any feelings of guilt for having this conversation when Harry was clearly at a disadvantage, Draco kept his face impassive, "You certainly do. I want to know when and why, how many times, and who else."

Harry flinched at the insinuation, but answered.

"It was the end of third year, the last Hogsmeade weekend, and only that one time. Tracey stayed here and came to talk to me. She wanted her first time to be with someone she knew wasn't using her just for sex so she would never have any regrets. She wanted to be with a friend, someone she knew cared about her as a person.

"I was a thirteen year old boy who had never so much as kissed someone and there was this attractive girl removing her clothes in my room, asking me to have sex with her. The temptation was more than I could resist."

Draco took a deep breath, in and out, and processed this new information. It was so far perhaps the best case scenario he could have asked for.

"Anyone else?" Draco eventually managed to question, not knowing if he truly wished to know the answer. He could remain in blissful ignorance, thinking that Harry had only had that one experience, but he was not about to be surprised with some other secret of Harry's life again.

Both hands brushed through Harry's hair and Draco knew he was not going to like the reply, but the movement of muscle under skin still had him heating up. "That summer I fooled around with the Weasley twins a bit, but things never went very far."

"And your definition of 'very far'..." Draco made a mental not to keep an eye on the identical redheads.

Harry snorted, "Hands strayed below the waist, but nothing else did, and trousers were never removed. Besides, Fred is far more interested in women than men and he's been dating Angelina Johnson since the Yule Ball, much good it'll do."

Confused at the last part of Harry's statement, but somewhat thankful for the rest, Draco could only mutter, "Huh?"

Meeting his eyes for the first time, Draco noted that Harry looked more worn than he remembered from dinner than night. "Fred and George are magical twins, not just regular twins like Parvati and Padma Patil. They'll never be happy in any relationship unless both twins are included."

Draco felt both eyes go wide, but then he remembered some passage about twins in the lineage books he had been made to study before Hogwarts. Magical twins were rare, but shared a magical core, even a soul. The latter was only discovered a few hundred years before when one of a set of twins had been kissed by a dementor and the other twin, in the group of witnesses, had also dropped, soulless. They were, in essence, one person in two bodies.

Harry swallowed deeply, then offered up his next bit without prompting, "On the Express, Cho Chang asked me out to Hogsmeade and ran away before I could answer. I haven't had a chance to turn her down yet."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the thought of that Ravenclaw _witch_ trying to get her hands on Harry, but he realized that Harry was finding it as distasteful, if not more so, than Draco was. There was no threat from that quarter.

He nodded, before asking one more question, pleased that Harry was being upfront with him. Even if the worst had been true, Draco had come to the conclusion over the past few days that he would have to find a way to accept it, as he had fallen in love with the green eyed savior of the wizarding world.

"Are there any more secrets you're hiding?"

Harry paused briefly, "Nothing that could hurt you to discover. Some things... how is your Occlumency?"

Suddenly on the receiving end of the questions, Draco made sure he thought before answering, "Strong."

"Strong enough?" Harry didn't give him a chance to answer, but pressed on, his tone insistent. "If you were brought before Riddle tomorrow and he assaulted your mind would you be able to protect what you had to?"

It was a difficult question to answer. The Dark Lord was perhaps the most powerful Legilimancer out there, perhaps because he was the most ruthless. Draco knew that if he suspected someone of holding information he wanted, he would not hesitate to rip their mind apart to get it.

"I don't know."

"See Severus and have him test you." Harry ordered, clearly thinking the previous portion of their conversation closed. His next words were softer though, "I won't risk you by giving you information that Riddle would kill to get."

His mind instantly wondered what information Harry could possess that the Dark Lord would want that desperately, and then remembered that the Order of the Phoenix was guarding something in the Department of Mysteries. Harry could know exactly what that something was, possibly knowing enough that the Dark Lord needn't break into the Ministry.

Nodding, Draco knew he would visit his godfather the next day. He had to get back to his purpose for this conversation though.

"Harry, I need to know that there hasn't been anyone else, that there won't be," Draco almost winced at the hurt shining in those emerald eyes, but he stayed his course. "I do not share what is mine."

"I know you don't," Harry was almost whispering, "and I would never dream of asking you to." His voice grew harder then, firmer, and his eyes shone with determination and a little anger, "and I would never, ever cheat on you, Draco Malfoy, not for every galleon in Gringotts and if you have to wonder about that perhaps you do not know me nearly as well as you should."

He swallowed deeply, knowing he had hurt Harry, yet he was fully convinced by the conviction behind that declaration, and no longer able to control his hormones. Several days with no release whatsoever, as despite what he had done with Harry, Draco could not bring himself to engage in self gratification, was catching up with him.

Their eyes met once more, and something passed between them. Draco was not sure what it was, and doubted he would ever know, but any remaining tension or anger evaporated in the heat of their gaze. Harry moved forward slowly, never breaking eye contact, and somehow slipping out of his trousers as he moved.

The darker haired boy undressed Draco, their silence only interrupted by heavy breaths. When Draco moved to touch Harry, to meet him halfway in participation, Harry shook his head and pinned his arms to the bed.

"No," Harry insisted. "I'm sorry Draco. I'm not sorry that it happened, but I'm sorry I never told you, that you found out the way you did. Tonight I make it up to you."

They kissed, and Draco was lost, as he knew he would be. He drowned in the weight of Harry atop him, in the heat of the darker skin, in the scent of the other wizard, in the taste of him. The blonde was breathing heavily, fully aroused, when Harry slipped down, his tongue, lips and teeth sampling random spots of pale skin on the way.

But he completely bypassed what Draco assumed he was aiming for. Looking down, he saw an anticipatory grin on Harry's face. Then his head tilted and all Draco could see was messy locks of dark hair. Hands pushed his legs apart and raised them so his knees bent and almost reached his shoulders.

Still, he was not expecting it. A surprised cry escaped his lips when Harry's _tongue_ touched him _there_, a spot that Draco had never expected any part of anyone's mouth to go. He had been shocked enough by Harry's fingers there. Yet any hint of disgust at the mere thought of how unsanitary the action was got completely overshadowed by the sensation produced.

His head was flung back and emitted a loud thunk when it hit the headboard. Harry paused in his ministrations and looked up at him questioningly.

"Don't...," Draco gasped out, unable to even form a coherent thought, never mind speak one, "don't... stop..."

Harry smirked then, and Draco was transported to another plane of existence as Harry's tongue worked him in a spot where Draco's fingers never even ventured.

He would never be able to say how much time elapsed, as all else beyond physical sensation ceased to exist. Draco was no more than his nerves alight with almost unendurable pleasure, with just a fleeting thought given to how incredible actual intercourse would be if Harry could bring him to this state with only his tongue.

Untouched on the one spot usually necessary, Draco exploded. He would return the favor, he knew, certainly not in the same manner, but that would have to wait until he had some control over his body once more.

Kisses trailed up his leg as they were lowered, and along his back and onto his neck as he was turned on his side and Harry stretched up behind him. Mildly confused, Draco noted that Harry was not in need of anything from him. His question must have shown on his face, because Harry supplied the answer without a single spoken word from Draco.

"The sounds you were making were more than enough." There was a mischievous quality to Harry's voice, almost smug, but then he deserved it.

Only one question had remained unasked earlier, and it just then returned to Draco's mind, "What did Umbridge keep you so late for?"

"She had me writing lines," Harry snorted and his breath ruffled Draco's hair, teasing the nape of his neck. "'I must not tell lies', over and over every night. I would have been back a bit earlier but I had to stop at Severus's."

Drifting off to sleep, unable to fight the closing of his eyes, Draco didn't have more than a few seconds to wonder why Severus allowed Harry to linger in his quarters after curfew.

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Author's Note

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I do not normally write these, as I feel it detracts from the story itself. However, it has been quite some time since I posted, and I believe you all deserve an explanation.

A few weeks ago I gave birth to my first child. He was over two weeks late, and there were complications towards the end of pregnancy and with the birth itself. We are both home and doing fine, though he is colicky. As a result, I barely have ten spare minutes a day when both hands are free. This note is being typed one-handed and thus, slowly.

Currently I am working on _Child of Four_ on paper, adjusting my storyline and fleshing out certain parts, as I only need one hand for that. I _will_ complete this story. It will just take longer than anticipated.

To give you an idea of what's to come:

- As the story progresses it will veer further from canon. For instance, the Deathly Hallows will not be involved.

- There will be some harsh conflict within the Potter family.

- As in canon things will get worse, much worse, before they get better.

- My disclaimer all the way at the beginning mentions mpreg. Who will it be?

- The title of the story will finally make sense towards the very end.

- There will be an epilogue of several chapters letting everyone know what happens to all the characters. Though I've left room for a sequel of sorts I have no plans to write one at this time.

When I post Chapter 60 it will replace this note. Once again I apologize for the delay, but I am sure you all understand that my son must come first.

Happy Reading and Writing,

sarini

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	60. Chapter 60

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**Chapter Sixty**

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It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, nearly Halloween, and Harry found himself completely unprepared. He had been studiously avoiding Cho Chang, much to Draco's amusement, which proved to be of little challenge as they were in different houses and years. However, he had not given much thought to those he _would_ be spending time with in Hogsmeade.

Any of his fellow Slytherins, those he would normally go to the village with, were out of the question. It was too dangerous, either for them or for him, depending on the Slytherin in question. Of course, many of those he had formerly considered friends, or at least friendly, no longer wanted anything to do with him.

So Harry Potter ate breakfast quietly, ignoring the chatter around him as the Gryffindors planned their excursions and gossiped about who they might spot together at Madame Puddifoot's, the notorious spot for couples on dates. Post came, and Harry tucked the few letters he received in a pocket after thoroughly checking them for curses. He had no wish to open them where prying eyes might read something he preferred kept private.

Only a few seats away, Neville seemed oblivious to Harry's troubles as Hermione whispered to him. His blood brother had a something of a crush on the bushy haired girl, which was unfortunate as she only had eyes for a red-haired idiot for some unfathomable reason.

With a shiver, Harry recalled that Brie was now thirteen. Her new position as Gryffindor's seeker would also attract attention from the students her age. He consoled himself with the knowledge that any boy, or girl for that matter, who considered asking her on a date would also consider her protective, purportedly unbalanced older brother.

He could only hope.

In retrospect, Harry knew he should not have been concerned. His friends outside of Slytherin were not about to abandon him. As he left the hall Harry found himself flanked by Fred and George and was immediately engaged in a hushed conversation about potential prank ideas.

The twins dragged him all over Hogsmeade, visiting Zonkos, Dervish and Bangs, Honeydukes, and several other shops, including the apothecary. He really didn't want to know what they were using some of those ingredients for.

Harry mostly kept in his own little world all morning, just relishing the free open air of Hogsmeade, far away from Umbridge, far from any Ministry plots, and away from the pressure of being surrounding by his fellow Slytherins.

Trying for a low-key appearance, keeping his head down was nothing new for Harry. He spent most of his time lately in the library with Gryffindors or in his own room in Slytherin avoiding Umbridge, but it was a fairly lonely existence. The only truly safe places to talk were in his room and Severus's quarters, making Draco and Severus the only people he had to truly talk to. He could think of much worse, but he missed Brie's exuberance, and Neville's nervous calm, and even Hermione's scolding.

It was only a year though. The curse on the Defense position, which Harry knew was fact, not just rumor, would take care of Umbridge before the spring term ended. Harry would just persevere until then and hope her replacement would be an improvement.

Besides, Voldemort could only lie low for so long. Eventually the Ministry would admit he was back, and Harry's job would grow exponentially easier. As much as he disliked most politicians, the support of the Ministry, with all their resources, was nothing to be scoffed at.

Harry had no purchases to make, so he just trailed along after the twins, occasionally joking with them and commenting on their fashion sense, or lack thereof.

Lee Jordan joined up with them mid-morning, the twins' roommate and close friend apparently in on their joke shop plans. The four of them discussed possibilities for improving the Skiving Snackboxes and some other merchandise still in testing phase. Harry's only warning was to consider how Death Eaters might use some of their products, and then to save those that might be dangerous for Order use only.

The twins and Lee had been startled at first, but they recovered and identical devious looks appeared on the freckled faces. They likely had never even considered using prank material in warfare. Growing up with three Marauders in residence Harry had been aware of the applications by the time he was six.

When all four of them were showing signs of hunger they headed for lunch. Harry's only reaction as they passed by the Three Broomsticks was a raised eyebrow. There was no chance they were going to Madame Puddifoot's, which left only The Hog's Head.

Harry stopped short in the doorway and glared at the twins. There was a fairly large contingent of students in the bar, students that did not normally socialize with one another. Something was going on and it had been purposely kept from Harry. Nearly every Gryffindor allowed at Hogsmeade weekends, and even some who weren't, were there, including Neville and Brie.

"Don't blame us, Harrykins...," Fred held up his hands in defense.

"...this is all Hermione's idea," George took an identical pose to his twin.

The students all stirred as Harry approached but he ignored them and, still glaring, took Hermione's arm and pulled her into a corner, "Excuse me, but I need to borrow Hermione here for a moment."

Hermione frowned and rubbed her arm when he let go, "Harry, that was –"

"_Muffliato_," Harry ignored her as he cast the area specific silencing ward that Severus had invented as a student. "I do not appreciate being ambushed."

"Well it's not exactly safe to talk to you in the castle, seeing as we can't bring you into Gryffindor with Umbridge around," Hermione replied with a touch of irritation in her voice.

"And you could discuss whatever this is with all these people?" He raised an eyebrow and guessed his Severus imitation was getting better by the ashamed look that automatically appeared.

Hermione rallied though, "None of them are being watched."

"Touché," Harry muttered. His frown stayed as he demanded, "So what is this all about?"

Hermione drew herself up and began what Harry suspected was a prepared speech, her tone at the same time lecturing and wheedling. If not for her heritage she might have been sorted into Slytherin.

"It's our O.W.L. year and Umbridge isn't teaching us nearly enough to pass our exams. Plus, with You-Know-Who back we need to know how to defend ourselves."

Harry immediately knew where she was going with this but wanted her to come out and say it. He interrupted her speech as she started to list several items that would be on the O.W.L. exams that they hadn't been taught, all of which Harry learned at home. "And this has what, exactly, to do with me?"

She started to look a little uncomfortable under his glare, "Well, we need someone to teach us, and despite being a fifth year you know more about defense than anyone in the school."

"And all these people want to learn from a deranged, deluded Slytherin?" Harry smirked at the crowd trying not-so-subtly to eavesdrop, and more than one person flinched.

Hermione was wringing her hands by then, "Most of them don't precisely know why they're here."

Taking another glance around the pub Harry considered all the angles presented by Hermione's idea. It was both a benefit and deterrent that discovery would seriously tick off Fudge and Umbridge. There were also possible ramifications for Dumbledore and Harry's family. While he did not look forward to proving himself to this mass of students – not being delusional, Harry knew it would be necessary – at the end he could have a loyal group followers. Cringing internally, Harry realized that Voldemort may have started out in a similar fashion, but networking was a key skill stressed in Slytherin. Harry also needed a way to fight, something his family and Dumbledore were denying him.

"I'll do it," Hermione beamed but Harry held up a hand to still her celebration, "on a few conditions. One: get this group out of here immediately. They're far too conspicuous. Two: everyone will follow my rules or they'll be kicked out. Three: each one of you will sign a magical contract swearing you to secrecy unless given permission by me alone to talk."

"Harry...," Hermione was not quite as happy anymore.

"Lesson number one, Hermione, stealth," he began pointing out various people in the pub. "The old hag at the bar is Mundungus Fletcher. I've seen that disguise of his before. Don't ask – trust me, you do not want to know. The man behind the bar is Aberforth Dumbledore, the headmaster's brother. He owns this pub. And that table of wizards is far too interested in this conversation for my comfort."

Abashed, Hermione nodded, "Got it. Don't discuss anything, anywhere unless I assure myself that it's safe."

Harry nodded and paused for a moment, thinking, "I'll find a place to meet and let you know. You managed to get all these people here; you can get them to our meeting spot as well."

He took down the privacy spell and left the pub with a quick stride, not even pausing to look at his friends or sister.

Harry could not truly describe how he felt at that moment, and so he didn't want to lose his temper with the people he cared about. To some extent he felt betrayed – but this was nothing new. Harry had essentially been betrayed by the entire wizarding world, or at least the portion of it in Britain, and foreign governments didn't have enough influence to change these things. It was just that this latest betrayal was not something he had expected.

As he walked through Hogsmeade and back towards the grounds of Hogwarts Harry tried to look at the situation rationally. When would Brie, Neville, or the Weasley twins have been able to warn him of Hermione's latest plot? He was the one who just warned Hermione that there were very few safe places to talk.

In truth, Harry had to admit that they likely had wanted to say something, but had been unable for fear of word getting back to Umbridge. If she heard of this plan to circumvent her curriculum she would come up with another ridiculous Educational Decree that would make their activities cause for expulsion.

It was not like his friends and sister were the only ones with secrets. For all they knew Harry truly was alone in Slytherin right now, without even Draco for support. They knew nothing of his meetings with Severus, nothing of the plan the three Slytherins had formed and were constantly adjusting to adapt to the changing world.

Breathing a sigh of relief Harry settled onto the ground at the base of one of his favorite trees, a tall sycamore a few yards from the forest edge. He could see smoke trailing from the chimney at Hagrid's – the half-giant had returned from his Order mission. Harry made a mental note to visit him soon. There was no rush though. It wasn't like Harry hadn't already guessed what the mission entailed.

"Harry?"

The timid tone was one he didn't hear often. Neville was only like that when he was feeling insecure – which was rare around the Potter family.

"I'm not mad, Nev," Harry smiled up at his blood brother and patted the ground next to him. He cast a nonverbal silencing ward, less powerful than Severus's _Muffliato_. They were far enough away from the rest of the castle's inhabitants that they didn't need much extra protection.

Neville visibly relaxed and grinned at Harry, "So what's the plan?"

Leaning back against the varied bark of the trunk Harry ordered his thoughts before speaking, "I'll teach them, but only so much. I'm sure that none of them are advanced enough for anything really dangerous anyway, but I will not be responsible for teaching a bunch of school kids how to kill."

Nodding, Neville agreed with Harry, "Most of them will never need to know how anyway. When the fight comes to them they'll run."

"As they should," Harry spoke softly.

They were all too young for this, but the Ministry was forcing it on them. By denying Voldemort's return and instituting this reign of fear on the school, Fudge was forcing the young witches and wizards to declare sides, thus putting their lives at risk, long before they would have had to otherwise. His actions would have the exact opposite result of his intention. Fool.

"What was that post you got?"

Harry returned his attention to Neville and brought the scrolls out from his cloak, "Letters from Krum and Fleur. They've been keeping me up to date on the rest of the world's reaction to Voldemort's return."

Interest peaked, Neville leaned closer, "Is Fudge the only one with his head in the sand?"

"Yup," Harry smirked. He really couldn't wait until the inevitable crashing down of the walls the Minister had erected around himself. "Though, if it's anything like last time, the rest of the world doesn't really have anything to fear. Voldemort might manage to conquer Britain, but even he's not crazy enough to try for world domination," Harry paused and considered his adversary, "not until several years after he's established his power here anyway."

"And by then we'll be dead anyway," Neville commented morosely.

It was unfortunate but true. They both knew that if Voldemort did conquer Britain they would die keeping him from spreading his power to the rest of the world. Voldemort was Britain's creation, and Britain's problem, and they were not about to inflict him upon anyone else.

"So where are we gong to meet for this thing?" Neville questioned his friend, changing the subject to something at little less morbid.

Harry shrugged as he truly had no idea where was safe from Umbridge and whatever spies she would manage to recruit over the course of the year, "I was thinking of asking Severus for his opinion."

Neville's eyes bulged and Harry cursed his slip-up.

"Look, Nev, there's a lot of things I should tell about." Harry snorted self-deprecatingly. He ran a hand through his hair, not trying to straighten it as he knew there was no chance, but not trying to enhance the mess as his father would. "Frankly I'm not even sure where to begin right now. I trust you, Neville, I really do, but my stuff is linked in with secrets that are not mine to share."

Neville, understanding as always, gave Harry a soft smile, "I get it, and I can probably guess at some of it. There's a pair of Slytherins involved I'd wager, and you're not nearly as alone in that House as you want the school to think." It was Harry's turn to smile. Neville knew him almost as well as Harry knew himself, and in some ways better. "I just figured you would ask your dad or Sirius and Remus, seeing how well they know the castle."

Harry scowled, still mad at his family for excluding him this summer. He handed over Fleur's letter to his friend and kept Krum's for himself, effectively changing the subject. "Here, I'm not sure I want to read the whole thing."

Unrolling the thick sheaf of parchment, Neville inspected to neat handwriting filling page after page, leafing through them quickly, "What does she manage to write so much about?"

With a snort Harry offered the explanation, "She's dating Bill Weasley, and credits me for getting them together since I told her to contact him about getting a job over here. She doesn't really have many people to confide in, as the other girls at school were jealous of her Veela traits and her sister is too young, so she decided I was the perfect candidate. Fleur can be a bit... graphic in her descriptions."

Neville dropped the papers as if they had suddenly burned him and Harry burst out in laughter, something he had not done in far too long. It was not too long before Neville joined him and they both ended up laughing like loons, politics, insane professors, and dark lords the last things on their minds.

The mood was not to last though.

Neville wiped tears from his eyes as the laughter faded, "I nearly peed my pants there."

Harry couldn't help but laugh again; more grateful than ever that Neville was his best friend and blood brother.

"Speaking of post," somber again, Neville spoke and Harry's laughter tapered off as he paid attention to his friend. "Be careful around Ron, Harry. He's been getting letters from Percy."

"And Ron hasn't liked me since I was sorted into Slytherin," Harry sighed. Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if he had fulfilled everyone's expectations and gone into Gryffindor. He never pondered on the subject for long though, since it meant he wouldn't have Draco.

Just what he needed – another person to watch. It did not help matters that Ron was friends with many of the people Harry was friends with. Mentally, Harry cursed Percy for dividing his family like he did, for allowing politics to trump love. It was only one of the many things that was wrong with the wizarding world and Harry almost wished he was an optimistic idealist. He might aspire to defeat the dark lord, but Harry had little hope for changing the world.

He would leave such hopes to the Gryffindors.

"Want to go visit Hagrid?" Neville proposed once they had finished reading as much of Harry's post as they planned to – there were some things neither of them wanted to know about Bill Weasley.

Harry shrugged. He had been planning to spend the day with the twins, but that plan was dashed to pieces in the Hog's Head. There was little of substance in Victor's letter, mostly just support and indignation on Harry's behalf. Apparently Gregorovich, the wandmaker, had gone missing, but Harry wasn't sure what, if anything, it meant.

"Sure."

They discussed Quidditch on the way to Hagrid's hut, leaving more serious topics for once they were behind wards once more. There was no point debating on what choice the giants made, as they were sure to find out as soon as Hagrid forgot himself and spilled the news.

Thoughts of a warm cup of tea and the simple company that Hagrid offered warmed Harry in more than one way. There was no need to analyze every angle where Hagrid was involved. What you saw was what you got, and Harry was thankful to have at least one friend with no hidden agendas or complicated motivations.

"Harry! Neville!"

The half-giant ushered them inside, holding a large steak over a painful looking bruise on his face. Harry raised an eyebrow, speculating on what new pet of Hagrid's could manage to actually injure him.

Two hours later Harry was forced to revise his opinion of Hagrid. It appeared that everyone had something to hide.

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	61. Chapter 61

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**Chapter Sixty-One**

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"High Inquisitor? You have got to be kidding me!"

Rowan and Ryan ignored their father's indignant ranting in reaction to the _Daily Prophet_. Normally they didn't See so far ahead, but they knew Umbridge wouldn't be a thorn in their brother's side for too much longer. They didn't know how or why or precisely when, but hoof beats figured prominently. Maybe Prongs was going to save Harry, but they knew better than to make assumptions based on vague Seeings.

"Today?" Rowan asked her twin.

Ryan nodded and answered softly, "Today."

Rowan grinned. This was one she was truly looking forward to. They rarely interfered – it was one of the rules – but sometimes other people were so _blind_.

She couldn't wait until they grew up. They were only three-and-a-half in body, but as Seers their minds had progressed beyond that of the average toddler in most ways. After all, they had Seen things that many teenagers hadn't. In some ways they acted exactly their age. The twins still took naps every afternoon and slept with a nightlight. They could write their names in large clumsy letters, but not much else, and Uncle Remus was teaching them to read – when he was there.

The twins weren't supposed to know, but their uncle was spending much of his time at various werewolf colonies, trying to sway them away from Voldemort. Mummy taught them when Uncle Remus was gone, and when he was in the Manor she worked on her spells.

In their bedroom, filled with small toddler-sized furniture, magical toys, and stuffed animals, Rowan and Ryan sat a white table with white chairs. On it laid their writing workbooks. Everyday they were supposed to copy the alphabet and numbers 0 – 9 three times, and then several words that Uncle Remus wrote out the day before.

They used learning quills, which had nibs that couldn't hurt anyone, and shafts that were thicker to make them easier for children to hold. Their ink was non-staining in wells that didn't tip over. Even if they were held upside-down the ink wouldn't spill out.

Rowan worked, her brow creased in concentration. She looked across at her brother and giggled. He always stuck his tongue out just a little bit when he was thinking hard, just enough for the tip to poke out between his lips.

"What?"

"You're doing it again."

Ryan pouted and pressed his lips together tight, bowing his head over his parchment workbook again.

Rowan went back to tracing out her letters, ignoring the crash in the hall and the cursing that followed. It was just Tonks. Her room was only two doors away and the twins had learned several words from listening to the young Auror stumble about the Manor.

Frowning, Rowan reached for her magic eraser and passed it over the parchment. Her 'd's and 'b's, 'g's, 'p's, and 'q's, got flipped around a lot. For some reason she almost never got them to match Remus's on the first try.

The door to their room opened and Uncle Remus peeked in, "Oh good, you're already started."

He walked over and sat on the floor to check their progress. "Good job, Rowan," he complimented her when saw that she caught her mistake before it was pointed out. He looked over Ryan's parchment as well, "Very nice, Ryan. Your lines are much neater."

Both twins beamed but only Rowan spoke, "Thank you, Uncle Remus."

"I'll be in the library reading," Remus told me as he stood. "You have free time when you're done with your writing exercises. We'll work on reading this afternoon."

"OK, Uncle Remus."

Rowan was the only one who ever heard Ryan speak more than a word or two. As the firstborn twin his Seer powers were much stronger than hers. It was harder for Ryan to focus on the present, so Rowan almost spoke for both of them.

The twins grinned at each other as their Uncle left the room. It was almost time.

As they were finishing up their writing the door to their room flew open and slammed shut. Uncle Sirius opened it again just a crack and looked out into the hall before closing it quickly again. He had pranked their mother and sure enough, her voice was soon heard yelling after him.

"You better hide Sirius Black! I am going to curse you back to the Dark Ages!"

His face lit with a wide grin as he spotted the twins at their table, "Morning!"

As one, the twins stood and each took one of his hands.

"Wha-"

They dragged their only slightly resisting uncle through their bathroom, guestroom, and out into the other hallway.

"You gotta come with us Uncle Siri."

"Bu-"

"Don't worry. Mummy won't find you."

"Wh-"

"Just around here." Ryan opened the passage they Saw earlier. While the house only had a few passages when it was built, more had popped up over the years. Magic could do that to a building, especially when so many powerful wizards and witches lived in it, like their biggest brother.

Partway down the passage they stopped. There was bare wall framing in the passage and Rowan pushed her uncle towards one wall while Ryan pressed a spot on the opposite wall.

"Sit."

Bemusedly, Sirius obeyed. It wasn't the first time the twins had directed him so forcefully. Like all the Potter children, they had him wrapped around their little fingers by the time they could talk. He watched as the wall melted away where Ryan had pressed to reveal the library.

"Moony!" Sirius stood quickly, but his way was blocked by two toddlers and Moony didn't hear him.

"Don't go through yet."

"B-"

"You'll know when. You hafta stop them 'cause it's too early for Teddy ta come."

With that cryptic statement Rowan turned around and left, Ryan following, silent as always. He heard them leave the passage and bump into Tonks, complete with resultant crash and cursing.

Rowan's voice carried into the passage, but she wasn't speaking loud enough for Sirius to understand what she was saying. He pouted. He hated riddles when he was on the receiving end. Luckily, the confusion never lasted more than an hour with the twins. Sirius suspected they couldn't Seer very far ahead.

"Huh?"

Tonks got no response from Rowan, at least none that Sirius could hear. The passage closed, leaving the only light he had coming from his portal into the library.

He started twiddling his thumbs. This was more boring than a stakeout. He was watching Moony read for Merlin's sake! He might as well be doing Ministry paperwork, or listening to Fudge.

Sitting bolt upright, Sirius's jaw dropped as the library suddenly became much more interesting. He had just entered the room!

"What the..."

Actually, he was still sitting where Rowan told him to sit. His exact double had entered the library, Moony none the wiser.

"Moony!"

That sly little minx. Sirius grinned, suspecting that Tonks was about to finally succeed at seducing Moony after years of trying. She had fallen for him her first dinner at Potter Manor and Sirius had been egging her on ever since. He was convinced his little cousin would be perfect for his best friend.

The Auror rubbed his hands together in anticipation and fidgeted on his seat. He was itching to jump up but didn't want to interrupt. The twins were definitely getting some 'thank-you' chocolate later.

"Padfoot."

Remus didn't look up until Tonks-Sirius swung a chair around and flopped down it, eliciting a frown for furniture abuse. She ignored it, playing her part eerily well.

"Whatcha readin'?"

"In English, Padfoot?" Remus teased, proving he was taken in by the charade. It seemed that werewolf senses weren't everything after all.

Tonks-Sirius just yawned, but didn't ask again. The question had been mere courtesy. Sirius rarely wanted to know what Remus was reading, as that often led to lectures on subjects he wasn't interested in.

After several minutes of finger tapping and humming – Tonks was far too good at this – Remus closed his book with a sigh and set it down on the table.

"Spit it out Padfoot," Remus prompted Tonks-Sirius.

She grinned, "When are going to give in and jump my little cousin?"

Remus blushed brilliantly and Sirius, in hiding, grinned. "Siri!"

"Aw, come on," Tonks-Sirius prodded. Sirius was chuckling in his passageway. He and Moony had had this conversation so many times Sirius had lost count, and he had related every one of them to Tonks. Maybe she would be able to turn it around. "She clearly wants you. What's the problem?"

Remus gave Tonks-Sirius a tired look, "We've talked this to death Siri –"

"You're a werewolf, you're too old, etcetera, etcetera," Tonks-Sirius sighed. "You think she's not aware of these things? How many years has she known you?"

She didn't argue why the points didn't matter, a new tactic in Moony-convincing.

Remus looked up and blinked, and Sirius clued in. Trying to convince Remus that his age and condition didn't matter was completely the wrong idea, because they _did_ matter, but Tonks had fallen for him anyway. Sirius grinned. It looked like Tonks was much better at this than Sirius was.

"She's young Siri –"

"Duh. We just went over that."

"She's young!" Remus raised his voice, a rarity. Gathering himself, he stood and crossed over to a window, facing out to the woods behind the Manor. "Do you think Andy would have raised her traditionally? You and Andy left all that. She married a muggle-born; Ted wouldn't know our traditions."

Remus's breath sounded shaky and Sirius looked back to his cousin. Tonks-Sirius looked dumbfounded, and Sirius remembered the conversation he and Remus had years ago. Slowly, the younger Auror morphed back into her own face, but her true face, without the spiky pink hair. For once she didn't trip over anything as she walked over to Remus, who was still talking.

"Dora would get tired of me and what then?" It was the 'Dora' that did it. Sirius suddenly realized that Tonks wasn't the only one who had fallen hard. Remus was making up excuses because he was afraid of getting rejected further down the road. "I can't... I won't..."

"I won't either."

Remus spun around, shock written all over his face, and Tonks put her hands on his cheeks.

"I'm not looking for a fling, or a thrill," Tonks spoke softly, clearly. "I love you Remus Lupin, and I'm not giving up, even if you hold out on me for the next ten years."

She pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

Sirius had jumped up, whooping and practically dancing in the confined space of the passage. As his celebration waned he noticed that neither inhabitant of the library was coming up for air. In fact, clothing was dangerously close to being discarded. He figured he didn't need to see anymore, and was about to leave the passageway, but then remembered that Rowan had said something... something about Teddy? No one called Ted Tonks 'Teddy'.

His jaw dropped. Of course! Remus and Tonks might just name a son after his grandfather, and people might nickname him Teddy. Sirius had never found sex embarrassing, but had Rowan – three-year-old Rowan! – actually stationed him there to prevent the conception of Remus's future son. She had said it was too early for Teddy, which meant that if Sirius didn't stop them Tonks would be pregnant by the end of the day.

He took a moment to silently congratulate Remy on his virility before jumping through the spot in the wall that Ryan opened.

"Hey!" He acted as though he wasn't interrupting anything. "Check out the new passage I found!"

"Padfoot!" Two voices chimed in to yell at him.

"What?" Then he pretended to catch on. "Moony, you dog!"

True to form, Remus recovered quickly and raised his eyebrows, "I think that would be you, my friend. I'm a wolf, not a dog. There's a huge difference."

Sirius snorted, but grinned. Tonks wasn't saying a thing, just standing there, holding Remus's hand and looking incredibly pleased with herself.

They were on night shift, and Sirius could have kicked James for it, but knew that everyone had to pull night shift now and then. He and Tonks left the Manor after dinner that night, after sleeping through lunch and the afternoon, and headed to the Ministry. Sirius had one of Alastor's invisibility cloaks in his pocket, ready to pass it off to Arthur who would feign leaving the Ministry for the day before doubling back for guard duty outside the Department of Mysteries.

Walking across the grounds Sirius smirked gleefully. He had been in high spirits ever since the show he got that morning and it was time to put some of it to good use.

"Hey Tonks," Sirius used his Auror voice, hoping to make her think this talk was work related.

"Yeah?"

"I give you full marks for form and execution, but if you ever impersonate me again I'll demote you to Floo watching duty."

One of the many perks of being a metamorph was the ability to avoid telltale signs of embarrassment like blushing, but it couldn't keep the voice from pitching slightly higher, "You _saw_?"

Tonks was clearly mortified.

"I must say," Sirius grinned widely at her, "I was wondering if you would kiss him as me and then change back. Now the reaction _that_ would have gotten from him would have been priceless."

At that Tonks drew her wand and Sirius started running, prepared to dodge hexes all the way to the edge of the wards.

"If you tease him, Black, you'll regret it!" Tonks yelled at him before hitting his rear with a stinging hex.

He yelped and jumped but kept laughing as he ran, apparating as soon as he crossed the wards.

In a window high in the Manor, two small faces watched the small woman with pink hair chase her older cousin.

"The Blacks are forever hexing each other," Ryan said quietly, in a much more somber tone than the words would seem to warrant.

Rowan nodded and set her expression in firm determination, "It won't happen in this time. We won't let."

All it would take was a hint here or there, and maybe a letter to Harry. Now that they could sort of read and write they could surely get the point across if they needed to, even if they had to resort to terrible spelling. The important thing was making sure that Sirius lived to see his next birthday.

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Please Review!

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Thank you all for your patience, and your well-wishes for my son. He is finally getting the hang of entertaining himself, leaving me time to type. So here are the next two chapters, and the next wait will not be several months.

: ) : ) : ) : )

sarini


	62. Chapter 62

Behold, the dreaded Author's Note (This will not become commonplace):

For the first time in this story, or any story for that matter, I am utilizing the services of a beta. The illustrious **comosmaster** is starting at the very beginning, editing all chapters, and checking for inconsistencies. Starting with this chapter, all go through her first, and hopefully the result is a more polished work overall.

Thank you all, and enjoy reading.

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**Chapter Sixty-Two**

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It took several arguments in Severus's quarters after curfew over a period of two weeks before the two other Slytherins agreed to allow Harry to bring Neville and the Weasley twins into their plans. Merely the fact that he would have to open his quarters to Gryffindors had made Severus adamantly against Harry's request from the start.

Harry's trump card was the prophecy. Should anything happen to him, Neville would have to take his place as the one to kill Voldemort. If things got too complicated, they might need more wands they could trust. That had been the easy part. The added fact that Neville and Harry were sworn blood brothers had only increased the assurance that his presence would be helpful rather than detrimental.

As for the Weasley twins, Harry knew that their grades nowhere near reflected their aptitude. The seventh years were brilliant, and their unique point-of-view could prove to be invaluable, as could many of their products that Harry had convinced them not to sell to the general public.

Convincing Severus of those facts had been difficult, to simplify things. Despite their 'Outstanding' score on their Potions O.W.L.s, the Slytherin Head of House still held a high level of disdain for the redheads. Harry had to promise Severus that he would arrange a complete cease of Weasley twin pranks in their potions class and on Severus himself before the man would even consider including them.

Talking the twins into joining their group had been far easier. Not only had the idea of a clandestine group appealed to their sense of mischievousness, but the temptation of being able to pick the brain of the certified best potions master of the century was far too good to pass up. With an evil grin, Harry thought to himself that Severus had no idea what he was about to experience.

That was how three Gryffindors and three Slytherins found themselves conspiring in the quarters of the Slytherin Head of House. If Albus Dumbledore knew, he would have been insufferably proud of how they managed to put aside house affiliation in pursuit of their common goal.

"Okay, so, Professor Snape works for the Death Eaters, and the Order..."

"...but his loyalty is sworn to Harry..."

"...and Harry and Draco are still together..."

"...but they're pretending to hate each other..."

"...to protect the entire Malfoy family from Voldemort..."

"...and Lucius Malfoy isn't loyal to anyone except his family."

"Are there any loyal Death Eaters?"

"Oh, and we can't forget the prophecy..."

"...that says Harry and Voldemort will be obsessed with killing each other..."

"...until them one of them finally succeeds..."

"...permanently, this time."

Severus was glowering, his teeth practically grinding in anger as he hissed out, "Stop saying _His_ name."

Harry noticed that twins, completely unperturbed by Severus's fury, didn't bother trying to get an answer to their question. It was probably rhetorical anyway, as it was rather obvious that there were several not only loyal, but frighteningly fanatical Death Eaters, both in Azkaban and wandering free.

He mostly ignored them though. Fred and George understood what they just heard perfectly well; they were just processing. It was Severus's reaction that was bothering him.

Frowning, Harry questioned the older man, "I understand why people are afraid of Riddle's name. He's one of the most powerful wizards in existence, hell-bent on mass murder, and the odds of surviving an attack by him are slimmer than the likelihood of the Chudley Cannons winning the world title. But why do you react so... vehemently?"

Everyone looked interested in the answer, and with five pairs of teenage eyes fixed on him in curiosity Severus bowed to inevitability.

"Why do you think those ridiculous monikers 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' sprang into being?" Ever the teacher, Severus of course tried to get them to discern the answer for themselves, and while Harry, Neville, and Draco all thought of and discarded one theory after another, Fred and George blurted out whatever came to mind, each reason more far-fetched than the last.

"Fear."

"Confusion."

"Constipation."

"Sexual frustration."

"Fashion statement."

"Hyphen fetish."

Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing, and he was not the only one, but the laughter was quickly silenced.

"If you do not desire to know...," Severus's tone was threatening enough that they all clammed up. "Fear is the correct answer, but the manner in which the fear spread is the crux of the matter. What happens when _His_ name is spoken?"

"Nothing," Harry responded immediately, "that's why I don't understand..."

"Nothing happens to you. Tom Riddle is not only one of the most powerful wizards alive; he is also one of the most intelligent. Imagine, if you will, a peaceful time in our past. Grindelwald is imprisoned, no longer a threat, and the muggle war is over. For years the only crime is relatively minor.

"Then, out of nowhere, there are rumors of a rising dark lord, his power so frightening that some of the most influential purebloods in our society are afraid to speak the name he has taken."

"The Dark Mark," Harry interrupted in a whisper, almost not noticing the proud smirk directed his way in the dawning realization and fear. "I knew he used it to summon, but, what _other_ spells are placed in the Mark?"

"I do not know everything the Mark can do," Severus admitted with not a little revulsion. "Among those of us Marked, though, his name is _taboo_. He knows if we speak it, and we are punished accordingly."

"And if those with the least to fear from Riddle are afraid to even speak his name," Neville concluded in horror, "then how would the muggle-borns feel?"

"Indeed, Mr. Longbottom."

"Please, Sir, if we are all going to work together to bring him down, then call me Neville."

"Very well," Severus looked disgusted at the thought and turned to the twins, his sneer growing. "I have no intention of ever learning which is which. If you cannot go by your surname, you may leave."

Identical grins were the only response.

"If Dumbledore knows all this, why does he insist that people need to speak his name?" Draco leaned against Harry while pondering aloud.

Harry sipped at his tea, knowing exactly where Draco's thoughts were headed, and not liking the destination one bit. But then, many of Dumbledore's actions had far-reaching consequences that Harry found distasteful.

"Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself." Neville repeated one of Dumbledore's favorite sayings and then snorted, "I'd say that fear of Riddle is rather healthy."

"What does he think is going to happen?" Harry burst out in frustration as the fireplace crackled and the flames leapt higher. "Merlin forbid Riddle ever does gain control of the Ministry. With their resources he can cast that _taboo_ over all of Britain – the perfect way to locate Dumbledore's staunchest supporters!"

The twins, Neville, and Draco all paled. Severus, no doubt, was well aware of the possibility.

As was often the case, when an uncomfortable situation arose that could not be easily solved, the topic of conversation was quickly changed. Being generally positive individuals who hated to dwell on the unpleasant, it was no surprise that Fred and George were the ones to prompt the change. Of course, given the purpose of their meeting, the new topic was not exactly upbeat, but it _was_ a change.

"So, Harrikins..."

The nickname, as it had every time the twins used it, drew a glare from the recipient.

"...just how exactly do you plan..."

"...to kill He-Whose-Name-Must-Be-Hyphenated?"

Not entirely pleased with the question, Harry decided flippancy was certainly called for, "I have no intention to commit suicide anytime soon."

Neville and Draco both hid their snickers as best they could, while Severus rolled his eyes and swatted the back of Harry's head. The twins grinned at him, but their gazes continued to bore into him, their question remaining fixed in their minds.

"Fine," with a sigh Harry held up his hand, which was soon engulfed in flame. "Fire kills just about anything. Elemental fire kills absolutely everything."

"Whoa."

Fred and George exchanged looks of awe, and had one of their moments of silent communication.

"The dementors."

"Precisely," Harry twisted his wrist for flare and the fire disappeared into his fist and extinguished without a puff of smoke.

"I cannot stress how crucial it is that this information does not leave this room," Severus was almost at his most menacing, despite the oath of secrecy sworn by each member of their little conspiracy earlier.

The twins nodded in unison, well aware that revelation of this talent would only seal Harry's fate. The Minister would pounce on it and before Harry knew it he would find himself in an Azkaban cell.

"The only problem," Harry brought the conversation back on track, "is assuring that Riddle stays dead this time. I could have killed him last June, but I'm sure it wouldn't have been permanent."

"Does Dumbledore know?" Neville directed the question at Severus, doing his best not to look at Harry as he spoke. He knew how much it hurt his brother that Dumbledore was using his name, thus creating the motive for the Ministry smear campaign, and yet would not speak to him or even make eye contact.

It looked as though he was trying to speak, but was prevented from doing so, as Severus eventually spat out, "I am not at liberty to stay."

"Damn this bloody secrecy!" Harry felt those foreign emotions swelling up again and did his best to beat them into submission. Only a small amount of anger managed to leak through, augmenting his own. "Damn the Order, damn my parents, and damn Albus Dumbledore! I am sick of it. Too many people knew too much last time, and now we're going to make the polar opposite mistake by not sharing any information with anyone!"

A hand on his shoulder caused him to turn and snap, though he immediately regretted it, "_What?_"

"Harry," Draco flinched, "don't you think it's about time you _asked_ Dumbledore why he's avoiding you? A war of silence requires two participants."

Severus smirked, as though he had been waiting for someone to suggest that exact course of action, "Consider your dreams of late, and recall that Albus is not aware that you are trained in Occlumency?"

Harry buried his head in his hands as the anger washed out him like a cool breeze. Realization flooded his mind and his surrogate grandfather's recent actions suddenly took on new meaning. He would never intentionally hurt Harry, which he had to know he was doing, unless it was a lesser of two evils. He had to be hurting Harry in order to protect Harry.

"You're right, Draco," Harry smiled at his fellow Slytherin, who puffed up like a peacock with the praise.

"When am I not?"

There was more snickering from Neville, and Draco tossed a half-hearted glare his way.

"Do you know if the Headmaster is in his office?" Harry used the formal mode of address for his grandfather, determined to keep the matter academic, rather than personal. He needed to remind the old man that Harry was capable and deserved to be consulted in such matters. This would not work if Harry came across like a petulant child. His grandfather needed to see him as a man.

Severus merely nodded and told Harry the current password, "If that is all today, I need to fumigate my quarters now."

In a flurry of activity, parchment was gathered and stuffed into various bags, along with quills, ink, and books. Being a man that detested mess, Severus picked up the sheets of parchment that the twins had left on the floor under his coffee table, glancing at the top sheet as he called them back to retrieve their belongings.

"You two _will not_ be brewing this!"

Harry, Neville, and Draco gave each other knowing looks as they walked out the door and headed in different directions – Draco to the Slytherin common room, and Harry and Neville out of the dungeons.

"But if we substitute shredded boomslang skin for the powdered..."

"...and chop the daisy roots unevenly..."

The sounds of the twins drawing Severus into a discussion regarding their pranks faded from hearing as the door closed and Neville and Harry turned the corner towards the stairs to the entrance hall. They paused at the base of the staircase with the trick stair halfway up, the point where their paths diverged.

"Think they'll sucker him in?"

"Without a doubt," Harry grinned at his brother. "He doesn't stand a chance."

Neville grinned back, and the moment of levity stretched out as their thoughts returned to the dungeons and the probable activity in Severus's quarters right then. The man would be unable to resist discussing the theory behind new potions, especially if he was correcting students of his and watching them flourish under his tutelage. The twins would ruthlessly extract every piece of advice they could in pursuit of their growing business.

As Neville disappeared from view, hopping over the trick step as the staircase shifted, Harry steeled himself for the confrontation ahead. It would take a delicate balance of truth and evasion, as despite his rant earlier Harry was well aware of the need for secrecy. The trick was in knowing what information to share, and what must remain hidden. He could not bring his grandfather in on everything they had planned, as Harry knew the man would not fully approve. There was also the risk that Albus would go to Harry's parents, which needed to be avoided at almost all cost. Their need to protect their son could cost them dearly, and Harry was afraid it already had. Harry would no longer confide in his parents, or their two closest friends, because he could not trust to let him do what needed to be done. He knew that if they had their way the Order would do all the work with the exception of the final killing stroke.

Harry knew that was not possible. Too many lives would be lost trying to protect him, and he would not be able to live with that.

Still debating exactly what he would tell the old man, Harry paused in front of the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, "Peppermint Toads." He let a smirk form in reaction to the password, no doubt a little passive resistance to the Umbridge invasion. He wondered in the man had used 'Fudge Flies' yet.

"Come in."

It seemed that Albus did not always know who was on the other side of his door, or he might not have invited Harry in. Avoiding someone in close quarters, especially when you were the only two people present, was quite difficult.

"Sir, I need to speak with you," Harry stated firmly as he walked in, shutting the door behind him and casting his own privacy ward atop his grandfather's.

"Harry," Albus Dumbledore's head snapped up from a mountain, almost literally, of paperwork. Briefly, Harry wondered why no one had invented a charm to deal with superfluous paperwork, but then thought that if one existed the Ministry would almost certainly classify it as illegal dark magic.

"How much of that is from the Ministry?" Harry was truly curious. He wanted to know just what the Ministry was coming up with to make the Headmaster's life difficult.

Albus Dumbledore frowned, and did not meet Harry's eyes as he held up a stack of parchment in five alternating colors, "This is a new form regarding the house sorting, discipline record, ancestry, and academic standing of each student that must be filled in quintuplicate for the Department of Education."

"Ancestry," Harry growled, easily spotting the part of the form that was potentially interesting, if studying the immersion of muggle-borns into society and their performance compared to the performance of purebloods, and potentially insidious, if used by blood purists to track muggle-borns.

Albus merely sighed and continued to write, his quill moving quickly over the sheets, "Of course, if Hogwarts manages to lose track of exactly which students have muggle blood once they enter the school, then it will be the Ministry's responsibility to comb through their own records and find the information themselves."

Harry smiled briefly, but the smile fell from his face as he decided to get right to the point of his visit. Directness was not a method his grandfather employed, and so it was sometimes effective when used against him.

"Why won't you look at me, Headmaster?"

The grief and guilt that flashed across the aged features disappeared so swiftly Harry almost thought he imagined it.

"As you commented yourself, I have been quite swamped with more paperwork each day than Hogwarts used to generate monthly –"

"And yet this started long before the school year began." Harry was saddened that his grandfather was not going to confess, so he decided some that Slytherin wiles were called for. It would at least test his theory about _why_ Albus was acting this way. He sneered, "It's good for you that I didn't perfect Legilimency along with my Occlumency or I could just bypass your half-assed evasions and extract the truth myself."

"When –" The astonishment on Albus's face was clear, and for the first time in months he met Harry's eyes. Harry felt a soft probe on his mind, just a test of his defenses, that he did not show any reaction to, pleased that they held firm.

"Mum, Remus, Frank, and Alice taught Neville and me the summer before our third year so they could tell us the prophecy," Harry chose then to settle into one of the comfortable wingback chairs facing his grandfather's desk. "It was a bit disturbing at first, knowing that I'm destined to kill or die trying, but not all that surprising really. After all, I've been training for it my whole life, and given what he's done to my family, I'd probably want to kill him even without a prophecy."

One wrinkled hand lifted the silver framed half-moon spectacles so the other could massage the bridge of a long nose and rub tired eyes. "Do they trust me so little?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. He was being honest; he had no idea why his parents decided to hide the lessons from Albus Dumbledore. "Maybe they thought you wouldn't approve, or maybe they're restricting the knowledge for some other reason."

"Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry stopped to think before answering. His immediate response would have been that yes, of course he trusted this man. If anything, though, his mere fifteen years of life had taught him to not only be extremely cautious bestowing trust, but that trust could come at varying degrees, "More than most."

"Yet not as much as some," Albus Dumbledore sighed, and looked Harry over carefully, clearly caught between paths.

Hoping to help him along, Harry probed, "Why? Why did you think I would be such an easy conduit? Why not just have me learn Occlumency this summer?"

Coming to a conclusion, Albus set his glasses down on the side of his desk. Two flicks of his wand cleared away the paperwork and conjured up a tea service, complete with petits fours. Harry chose a meringue to go with his tea, fond of the combination of citrus with the Earl Grey his grandfather preferred.

"Harry, I cannot send you out on any tasks, or involve you too deeply. I have to respect the wishes of your parents."

His smile was devious as he responded, "You forget one thing, Grandfather." Long eyebrows lifted in question. "I am legally an adult, and have been for fourteen years. By their own doing, my parents have no say, and no recourse."

"It is not that simple," Albus gave Harry a long look, and sighed, "but I think you have the right to make this decision."

"I _need_ to do something."

They did not speak for a short time, the only sounds in the room from the scattered instruments, the soft snores from Fawkes, and the clink of fine china as teacup returned to saucer after a sip.

"What I am about to share with you, Harry, is currently only speculation on my part, which I have not shared with another soul. Tell me, Grandson, in all of your readings have you come across mention of a horcrux?"

Shaking his head slowly in the negative, Harry attempted to unravel the Latin roots of the word – not at all his forte. Of all the Potter siblings, Harry was not the worst with languages, but certainly not the best. That honor went to Ian.

"Something about abusing time?" Harry guessed.

"Close," Grandfather Albus favored Harry with a small smile, but it did reach his normally shining blue eyes – eyes that looked older and more careworn than Harry could ever remember seeing them. After a fortifying drink of tea, he began his explanation, "My suspicions began during the first war, but I had nothing to support them until three years ago."

His mind was working overtime, trying to leap ahead in the conversation and figure out what they were discussing. It had to have something to do with Voldemort, and three years ago, "the diary."

"Yes, Harry," again, a small smile, replaced with a frown, "a truly dark object, one that I believe held a piece of Tom Riddle's soul."

He suddenly regretted eating anything. Merely the _thought_ of such a perversion of magic made Harry's stomach lurch. He knew that some acts damaged the soul, but to deliberately _split_ it was unthinkable. Tom Riddle had proven, though, that he had no qualms about committing acts of utter depravity.

"How many?"

Shaking his head sadly, Albus Dumbledore admitted, "I have no idea."

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Please Review!

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	63. Chapter 63

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**Chapter Sixty-Three**

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Draco considered himself to be the epitome of Slytherin, coming from a long line of Malfoys that defined what it meant to be sorted into Slytherin.

Lately though, in fact, ever since Harry Potter entered his life, Draco surprised himself by acting in ways contrary to how his father raised him. For example, Malfoys were supposed to cool tempered and aloof, yet Draco frequently lost his handle on his emotions, or became flustered.

Still, Draco was a Malfoy, and luckily he managed to hide his confusion and frustration and remain an example to the rest of Slytherin House. This year though, it was getting more difficult by the day. Never before had he been required to hide so very much. He hated acting like the perfect little Death Eater-to-be, a necessary mask to protect his father.

He didn't know how Severus and Harry did it. Every time the Death Eaters were summoned, Severus lied straight to the Dark Lord's face – and he maintained the façade everywhere but within his quarters. Then there was Harry. The press was maligning him, their House was ignoring him rather than publicly declaring loyalties, his parents were keeping him in the dark, but the only time his steadfast control broke was when the Dark Lord's emotions leaked through.

So maybe Draco wasn't quite the perfect Slytherin his father was, but he did still know everything a Slytherin was _supposed_ to be, and he strived to get as close to that perfection as possible (the fact that he was waiting in Harry's room, twisting his hands as he prepared to apologize, notwithstanding).

It had all started early that morning.

Before he came to Hogwarts, Draco wanted to be the seeker on the Slytherin quidditch team. He considered it the premiere position. After all, the seeker was the center of attention, and Draco Malfoy adored being the center of attention. No matter what else happened in the game, the fans dropped everything and held their breath as the seekers chased after the snitch and ended the game.

Of course, in his first year, that dream was dashed to pieces by Harry Potter – and it was Draco's fault. Second year he became a chaser, and to some extent he discovered that it was the position he preferred. While he enjoyed being the center of attention, he now knew it made one a larger target for negative attention in addition to the coveted positive attention heaped upon him as a child.

Chasers _were_ invaluable members of the team. If they scored enough points during the game, it really didn't matter which seeker caught the snitch. Chaser was a crucial, almost behind-the-scenes player – like the political role his father played. Through a succession of Ministers, some of them leaving in disgrace, his father had remained a constant force, in many ways untouchable.

So, by the time second year came around, and Draco had a chance to join the quidditch team, he had _almost_ convinced himself that he would much prefer the chaser position over Harry's seeker position.

Besides, seekers were the most often injured players. Draco hated pain. And he hated getting dirty.

The first game of the season for Slytherin had progressed smoothly. Their rapid accumulation points was going to put them far in the lead for both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup, no matter how House points Umbridge took from Harry. Ron Weasley really was a piss-poor keeper. His temper and insecurities were far too easily provoked, making his flying and concentration sloppy.

Slytherins were always good at finding and exploiting another's weak spots.

Victory was celebrated with a lap around the pitch, and with a mob of Slytherins on the ground. Every Slytherin congratulated Harry on a fine catch – triumphing over his little sister no less – but maintained just enough distance to make sure it did appear that they supported _off_ the pitch as well as on it.

Before long, Harry, in a truly un-Slytherin show of good sportsmanship, was congregating with the Gryffindor team. He was clearly teasing Brie, and the Weasley twins began tickling him in retaliation.

Draco knew it was ridiculous. He knew he was overreacting, but months of suppressed emotion had built up and were suddenly all pushing at him, looking for a way to vent. It began in keeping with his mask, ribbing the Weasleys about their brother's dismal performance, about their overly large family, their poverty, making cracks about their parents. It was gratifying to see Harry straining to hold back George while two of the chasers restrained Fred.

He knew the instant he stepped over the line.

Redheads were notoriously volatile, and the Weasley twins were no exception. It just normally took more to get them riled than a few digs at their family. Once they were triggered, though, all hell broke loose. In this case, it broke Draco's nose, courtesy of George's fist.

At first, Draco was sure they were faking their anger. After all, Fred and George were well aware of the act Draco was putting on for the rest of the school. They knew Draco and Harry were still together. Not even Brie knew about that. As far as the rest of the Gryffindors who were at Potter Manor that summer were concerned, Harry and Draco had just been having some fun and broke it off for the safety of everyone involved.

Regardless, Draco really should have connected his brain to his mouth.

Madame Promfrey had fixed him up readily enough under the watchful glare of his godfather. Of course, that glare was directed at him possibly more so than at his colleague. Severus had escorted him back to Slytherin like an errant child, which, to be brutally honest, he closely resembled just then.

_Muffliato._

The spell was cast silently, but Draco still knew which one it was.

"I do not know what you said to set them off," Severus hissed at Draco, towering over him. The man had never looked more menacing, "and I do not wish to know, but you had better be prepared to grovel, _Dragon_."

The use of his mother's childhood pet name for him certainly made Draco feel like a child.

"Uncle Sev –"

"No, Draco. I am not the one you must explain to, unless you have managed to destroy your relationship with Harry," Severus was angrier than he had ever been with Draco, and Draco was beginning to understand why. "If that is the case I will require a full explanation of your stupidity before I _Obliviate_ you of our plans to defeat the Dark Lord."

As the potential ramifications of his outburst slammed home his jaw dropped. Nervous tension eating at his stomach, Draco managed a chastised response, "It will not come to that."

"See that it doesn't." Severus' glare lessened fractionally, but just enough to relieve Draco. "I must go and join Minerva. Umbridge will no doubt insist on punishing Harry for this and he is my responsibility."

Draco cringed. He really did manage to completely bollocks things up.

Upon entering the common room, he assured his Housemates of his wellbeing and professed he was not really interested in partying. Draco went straight to his room, and straight from there to Harry's room, to wait anxiously for Harry's return. He paced, and wrung his hands, and paced, and cussed. Harry was taking much longer than expected.

Finally, the door slammed open with enough force to rattle the bed, then shut again so hard that Draco swore he saw a few flecks of plaster fall from the ceiling. Surprisingly, though, Harry just leaned against the door and shut his eyes.

"You're an asshole."

Draco gulped. The tension gripping his stomach let up just a bit when Harry opened his eyes. While Harry was glaring at him, it was nearly as harsh as he expected.

"The twins would be well within their rights to formally challenge you and demand reparations for character assassination!" Draco winced while Harry continued yelling at him. "Claiming that they whore themselves to me to pay for their joke business – you called two purebloods prostitutes to their faces, in public! What _possessed_ you?"

Draco sank to the ground and looked up at Harry. He was suddenly extremely thankful that the twins had been brought into their conspiracy. Otherwise, they would certainly be out for blood. Draco would be subjected to some harsh pranks the next few days, as no one would believe it if the twins let such an insult slide with just a few well-placed punches.

"Shit, Harry," Draco swore quietly, marking the situation as truly significant. After all, Malfoys were not crass enough to _curse_. "This whole act is _killing_ me! I've uttered the word 'Mudblood' more this week alone than ever before. I can't –" Draco took a deep breath and willed away the tears that were suddenly threatening. "I can't stand declaring my utter hatred of you, professing that the Dark Lord is sure to kill you before the year is up, seeing –" he swallowed "– seeing them touch you when I can't."

"It's only going to get worse." Harry kneeled down in front of him and cupped one cheek with the palm of his hand.

"I know." Draco turned his face into the hand and kissed it lightly. "I think I need to join in on those duels you and Sev have."

Harry nodded, "You need to talk to Sev, too. He's been putting on a huge act since before we were born."

They leaned together and kissed softly, just a brushing of lips against lips.

"What are they going to do to you?"

"You know how you wanted to be seeker?"

"No!"

"Yes," Harry snorted and rested back on his feet. "I'm off the team – Fred and George, too."

"That bitch." Draco didn't bother to protest at the inequity of the punishment – Harry and Fred hadn't laid so much as a finger on him – as Umbridge had no use for fairness.

But Harry's grin was purely malicious, "Oh, she'll get hers. Umbridge never made a bigger mistake than giving Fred and George Weasley scads of free time. They're going to make her life hell."

Draco felt his eyes lighting up at the prospect. The next several weeks, no, months, would be _interesting_.

"I'm sorry," Draco truly meant it. He knew how much Harry loved to fly. "I'll apologize to the twins as well."

"Good – and don't worry too much about it. I hardly had any time to study, seeing as I use all my free time now to plot Riddle's demise or teach incompetent Gryffindors 'foolish wand waving.'"

Draco snorted at the reference to Severus's highly memorable first year speech. He sobered quickly, as there was one more thing that needed to be said.

"Harry, I... I love you."

He could have sworn actual flames in those emerald irises.

"And I, you."

They crashed together then, all gentleness gone in their mounting passion. Without the words being spoken, Draco knew he had nothing to fear. Any jealousies or insecurities burned away, consumed by Harry's ardor, and surety came over Draco.

As their quidditch robes, still dirty from the game, were torn off, and their already sweaty bodies pressed together, Draco had a moment of serene conviction. The world melted away, leaving him with the conviction that this, the two of them, was absolutely _right_.

The bedsprings creaked with the sudden weight of two very fit bodies. Their hands were everywhere, and their arousals were almost painfully rubbed together, until Draco guided Harry's _sex_ further down, and the brunette froze.

"Draco –"

A pale finger pressed against wind-chapped lips.

"I want this, Harry. I, we, _need_ this."

Harry's eyes were clouded with lust, with love, and flames sprang up in the previously cold fireplace, so bright they almost put Harry in silhouette. Then he moved again, and fingers breached Draco, stretching him, caressing him inside and out – and then – utter, transcendent bliss.

Draco felt loved, worshipped, like never before. As his body moved and rushed towards immolation, his mind fogged and his magic exploded outwards, giving Draco its blessing in his choice of mate.

Drifting to sleep, still wrapped together and sharing lazy kisses, Draco recalled the legends of soul-mates, and he began to suspect that their existence was not as scarce as he thought. Another plan seeded deep in his consciousness, not yet forming roots, a plan he would not share with anyone, not even Harry.

Their group of conspirators met the next day in Severus's quarters, the twins ostensibly performing detention. The instant the identical redheads entered the room and shut the door, Draco kneeled before them and placed his wand on the floor before him. His head ducked in the pose of a supplicant.

"I offer my sincere apologies for the grievous insult I have dealt you. If it is within my power to make reparations, I shall do as you command. May the gods and all present witness."

Blood-traitors the Weasleys might be, but it was clear that ancient custom was taught to them as some point. Rather than tease, or laugh off his formal apology, they took the matter seriously and responded in unison with the appropriate decorum.

"Forgiveness is granted, the supplicant, worthy. Reparations are accepted, to be agreed upon at a later date."

Relief flooded Draco. If the twins had wanted to, they could have gotten the Head of Weasley involved, and the Head of Malfoy, and created a very public mess. He knew that whatever payment was decided upon would not be excessive. The twins had fierce tempers, but unlike their younger siblings, they did not nurse grudges.

"Well done," Severus observed with a murmur.

The matter was tabled for then, as there were more urgent issues to discuss. Harry updated them on the progress of his meetings with Dumbledore. Severus had been familiar with the concept of the horcrux, and explained it in finer detail than Harry could. The mere suggestion that Riddle had created more than one of these abominations of magic was sickening to all of them.

Draco was not sure how it came about, but one of the twins produced a deck of cards – of the non-exploding variety – and soon they were adjusting their plans to allow for the detection and destruction of the horcruxes over a game of poker.

"How's your little play group?" Severus questioned Harry after he threw his two knuts in as the blind.

"Nice try, Sev," Harry smirked. "I know your hand is terrible." Harry, sitting to Severus's left, tossed in the four knut double blind. "But to answer your question, it's depressing."

"Depressing?" Draco hadn't heard him describe any of the meetings that way – infuriating and a waste of time, yes – but not depressing.

Harry nodded, and the twins and Neville looked on in commiseration. "Half those kids can't even disarm an opponent, and their aim is horrendous. It took four meetings just to get them to trust me enough to teach them simple charms!"

Neville grimaced, "Bad timing Harry, but Hermione wanted me to ask you to start the Patronous Charm."

Harry laughed completely without mirth, "I might as well. The vast majority of our peers would die within seconds when faced with a Death Eater. Maybe we should just work on running."

Neville won the hand with a flush, and Severus took the cards from Draco to deal. He shuffled with a flourish and dealt the face down cards efficiently.

"You apologized to Harry, too, right?" Fred asked Draco sotto voce. George leaned in on Draco's side. The twins had been separated for the game, but considering how many of them were proficient in Legilimency and Occlumency, Draco wondered why they bothered to consider a twin bond.

At the reminder of their activities the night before, Occlumency or no, Draco couldn't stop the flush that crept over his face.

"Oh, ho!" George reached around Neville and slapped Harry on the back. "Harry, you dog!"

Harry merely lifted an eyebrow in a passable imitation of Severus, and Draco knew he must have practiced, "You have me confused with my godfather."

Severus lifted his cards and moaned, "Discussing their sex lives and gambling with students – Albus is going to fire me." He looked at the piles of coins around the table, "and I'm losing!"

There was no sympathy forthcoming from said students, only snickers. Only two hands later, in which Severus managed to recoup most of his losses and save face, Harry announced that he and the Gryffindors had to leave for a DA meeting. The twins produced their map to make sure the halls were clear, and the four of them left.

Draco leaned back in his chair and observed his godfather. After the events of the past few days, his respect for the man had grown even greater.

"Uncle Sev..."

Severus sent his money back to wherever he kept with a flick of his wand and looked at Draco, "Yes, Dragon?"

This time the name did not evoke feelings of childishness, but a sense of security that only Severus could impart.

"I need you teach me."

Sighing, Severus flicked his wand again and the extra chairs disappeared back to wherever Severus had conjured them from, likely Spinners' End.

"I was under the impression that I was teaching you."

It was so very like Severus to make him work for it, though Severus did have no way of knowing exactly what Draco wanted to learn this time, and Draco was getting tired of this ritual. The fact that he didn't really _want_ to learn what he needed to learn did not help matters.

"I need to learn how to be a spy, Sev. I need to learn how you can do it, how you be such a bastard to someone you care about and not let it eat you up inside."

There was a miniscule wince, and the pained look on Severus' face was one Draco never wanted to see again, never mind instigate.

"I suppose it is inevitable, and better you learn now before you do something irrevocable." Severus gave him a hard look, as though searching for some inner quality Draco would need to be successful at this endeavor. Whether or not he found it, Draco didn't know. "Very well, Draco. Sit down, and listen closely."

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	64. Chapter 64

**A/N: **It has been a while, so this version is un-beta'd and unedited. As soon as it gets back from the beta I will repost.

Happy Reading!

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**Chapter Sixty-Four**

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It was little comfort, this potential knowledge of how Voldemort had survived the rebounded killing curse all those years ago, of how he was able to fashion a new body for himself.

The possible implications where his scar was concerned were bone chilling.

Harry held off on sharing this information. Oh, he told them about the horcruxes themselves, but not his suspicions regarding his scar. He knew he had to, that he was going to, but had no idea how. Draco's reaction alone was not something to look forward, and then there were the rest of his co-conspirators. Harry had no idea what it meant for his blood-brother oath with Neville. Was Neville connected to Voldemort as well – the mere thought gave Harry chills.

So he waited to explain it all to the others fully, and in the meantime he snuck up to Albus's office on a regular basis (made all the easier with his invisibility cloak). The older wizard shared his memories of a young Tom Riddle, both before and during his years at Hogwarts. They were looking for clues, for insight into the boy who became the monster known as Voldemort.

It was clear that Riddle collected trophies while at the orphanage, and it was likely that his horcruxes were trophies as well – though trophies of what remained to be seen. Both Harry and Albus suspected that Riddle hid his trophies in places of personal significance, yet they had no way to check on the most likely. Given Riddle's obsession with Hogwarts and his ancestry, relics associated with the founders were likely candidates for his soul vessels.

They also needed more information, and this type of research could not be trusted to just anyone. Not only was it imperative that Riddle not know about their search for the horcruxes, but the existence of horcuxes alone was not information they wanted to circulate into the general public. Scores of dark wizards hiding pieces of their souls all over the world was a potential nightmare of epic proportions.

(Luckily, Riddle was not about to share his information regarding horcruxes with anyone. Dark wizards horded their secrets and protected them viciously. Riddle might strive for immortality himself, but he was not going to allow his Death Eaters to seek the same.)

In short, Albus Dumbledore needed a way to leave the school without arousing suspicion from the Ministry or Voldemort. Neither wizard had a good idea of how, but it was in the back of Harry's mind.

Harry's dreams of the Department of Mysteries continued, always the same. It was clear that Riddle wanted the prophecy. The only question was, were the dreams just a result of the connection between them and Riddle's obsession with the prophecy, or was he trying to influence Harry in some way?

"I don't know how you put up with it."

Harry's ruminations were broken by Hermione's question. They were in the Room of Requirement, the uniquely suited space recommended by the house elves under Severus's order, cleaning up after yet another DA session. At first, they expected the room to appear in the same order each time, but discovered that whatever mess they left behind appeared the next time they summoned the room.

The DA had managed to convince Harry to teach them the Patronus Charm, and to his surprise several of them were managing wisps of silvery light. with enough work he suspected that several of them would cast corporeal versions by the end of the school year, which was quite surprising considering that many adult wizards and witches could not manage the charm. As they wouldn't meet again until after Christmas he just hoped that they wouldn't regress.

"With what?"

She could have been asking really. Harry, himself, wondered how he put with the imbeciles in the DA, how he managed to suffer through Umbridge's inane and arbitrary rules, how he could deal with fighting with Draco publicly yet sharing such intimacy privately... the list went on.

"The slander! I looked into it, Harry," Hermione was like a miniature McGonagall as she lectured. "The law clearly states that no publication may knowingly publish falsehoods that harm a witch's or wizard's social standing, reputation, business, fiscal solvency, or family. What's more, nothing at all can be published which refers specifically to any minor without the consent of the minor's parents or guardians –"

Harry cut her off before she really got going. For one thing, there was no way he was going to explain his legal status – the fewer people who knew the better.

"Hermione, did you stop and think about what they're publishing, about what possible reasons my family could have for allowing it?" He smirked slightly at her stunned look. Really, did she think no one else ever cracked a book? His father was Head Auror for Merlin's sake. Of course they knew about the laws involved, and the _Daily Prophet_ knew they knew, which meant the only way they would print such slander was if the Ministry was forcing them. "And even if you thought we never considered challenging the Ministry before the Wizengamut, what about Dumbledore? Is anything he does without a dozen reasons?"

Her forehead crinkled, and Neville chuckled. The sandy-haired boy had been in on the discussions about the Ministry and the press once Harry realized what was going on.

Hermione was frowning, "I still don't see –"

"That's because you don't think like a Slytherin."

"Critical thinking skills are not the sole province of one house!" Hermione huffed in irritation and Harry grinned. "Nor do I believe for even a moment that cretins like Crabbe and Goyle could possibly have more complex thinking processes than three-quarters of this school."

Harry didn't actually believe that either. After all, he could have easily gone into Gryffindor, or even Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but it was true that once you were sorted, certain traits were encouraged while others were frowned upon. A Slytherin who took unnecessary risks, like Harry himself sometimes, would be disciplined for those actions, where the Gryffindor would be lauded.

"You are very clever, Hermione," Harry began with a compliment because he knew she wouldn't like what was coming, "but you have a tendency to believe pretty much anything you read and not look past the surface."

"I do –"

"For example, you were convinced our first year that Snape was cursing my broom because you saw him staring and muttering." Hermione flushed, as she had no idea that Harry was aware of that particular error on her part. "He was actually speaking the countercurse, and breaking his concentration could have killed me if Quirrell hadn't also been distracted."

Hermione was suitably cowed, but she soldiered on, "I still don't see what that has to do with you and the Ministry."

"What will happen when the Ministry finally admits that Riddle is back?"

"They'll be embarrassed, naturally, and –"

Realization dawned on Hermione's face as clearly as a blush on a Weasley.

Neville rejoined the conversation then, as Harry had led Hermione along the right path, "The Ministry will bend over backwards to get Dumbledore's and Harry's support. The _Prophet_ will be in a bind, too. Right now Fudge has half the Wizengamot in his pocket, so attacking the Ministry there would be counterproductive, but once the truth is out they'll turn on him, and he knows it. Fudge's days as Minister are numbered. The only wild card is who will replace him."

Harry's brow furrowed in thought. He had given this some thought. Indeed, it had been a topic of conversation amongst the conspirators, as their actions when the time came would vary depending on who they had to work around. It wasn't time to voice any of those thoughts, though. Hermione was not part of their group, though her research skills would be helpful. They just weren't sure if she was fully trustworthy, or if she could handle some of the less-than-virtuous methods they might have to employ.

"But what about Umbridge?" Hermione persisted, determined to have every doubt assuaged. "She's terrorizing the school, and I _know_ what's going on in those detentions. Lee Jordan came back –"

"Hermione," Harry hissed at her, glaring daggers. He had not wanted Neville to know about that quill, but if Gryffindors were being submitted to it, if there was a possibility Neville would fall victim as well, maybe it was time Harry _did_ do something about it. By the look on Neville's face he already knew, but had been attuned enough to Harry's mindset that he wasn't going to broach the subject. He brushed a hand through his hair in frustration. There were just some things that he didn't have the answer for, that he wasn't sure about.

"That quill is an illegal dark object, but the use of it only taints those who are forced to write with it. The only way to actually get Umbridge in trouble for using it during detentions is for an Auror to witness the act – there's no proof that she is behind it otherwise. Even if Fudge didn't have the Wizengamot behind him, getting the use of Veritaserum authorized for something like this is highly unlikely. Umbridge is well aware that she can't get in trouble for what she's doing. The woman may be odious, but she is very cunning when it comes to politics."

"There's nothing you can do?" Hermione looked stricken, and Harry softened somewhat.

He shook his head, avoiding the look of sympathy from Neville, "No. Dumbledore would try to fire her, but thanks to the Ministry, he doesn't have that power anymore. We're at war, Hermione, and sacrifices have to be made to save lives. A few scars on a handful of students – which can be healed eventually – are nothing compared to what would happen if Riddle got control of Hogwarts. Considering who Fudge's advisors are, we're only a step away from that, and I'd much rather have Umbridge running the school than Death Eaters."

"Me too," Neville chimed in softly.

The room had been put to rights long before they were done, and curfew was creeping up on them. If Harry wanted to make it down to the dungeons without risking another Umbridge detention he would have to hurry and use several of the hidden passages.

Draco was already sleeping when Harry got to his room, and he snuggled up next to the blond, not disturbing him in any way. He merely shifted and pulled Harry snug against him, nuzzling his neck. Harry felt arousal stirring at the soft touch of breath on his neck, but fought it. Neither of them had been getting enough sleep of late. Harry had even been sleeping later in the mornings, and skipping his yoga several mornings each week.

Yawning, Harry vowed to himself that he would get enough sleep, that he wouldn't let himself get into unhealthy patterns, that he would find out exactly how strongly his scar connected him to Riddle...

With a gasp, and the bile rising in his throat, Harry was jolted out of sleep, completely disoriented. He could feel the metallic tang of blood in his mouth and his stomach heaved. A hand reached for his arm and he jerked away, too fast. He was spinning, and falling, and his forehead struck something hard and sharp, the pain bringing him fully awake, just before his stomach heaved for a final time and what was left of Harry's dinner came up.

Breathing heavily, Harry brought his hand up to his head and felt blood trickling down from a cut near his hairline, "Great, another scar."

The reason he woke so suddenly forced itself to the front of his mind, the images and feelings still acute. Quickly grabbing his wand off his nightstand, which he idly noted had a little smear of blood on the edge, Harry rapidly cast two Patronus messengers, sending them to Severus and Dumbledore, telling both wizards what he believed to have occurred at the Ministry that night.

With a flick of his wand Harry cleaned away the mess on the floor and then cleaned out the acidic taste in his mouth. The spell did not take care of the leftover tastes from his vision, as he supposed they were more mental than physical anyway. Still, he spat, trying to get rid of them.

"Harry?"

He turned, to see Draco sitting up in bed, looking paler than usual. At the sight of him, with the blood still trickling down his face, Draco's eyes widened and his hand covered his mouth for an instant. Harry wondered how anyone could possibly think Draco would make a good Death Eater, with his reaction to the sight of just a little blood.

Grabbing a handkerchief from the drawer of his table, Harry pressed it to his forehead. Head wounds were a tricky business, and he wasn't about to attempt to heal himself there. Severus would show up soon anyway, as his message had included the need for some non-urgent first aid.

"I'm fine, Dray."

"Vision?" Draco gathered his wits and returned to his usual calm state, wondering how on earth he was going to survive the next few years. He had quite a bit of work ahead of him.

Harry sighed and looked down. He knew he wasn't possessed – after what had happened to Ginny Weasley he had read quite a bit on the subject – but he felt dirty, almost responsible. He had no control over the situation though; Merlin knows, he had tried to stop it.

"Nagini got Mrs. Weasley."

"Shit." Draco might not have been fond of Weasleys as a general rule – though he was beginning to accept Fred and George – but that did not mean he wanted them hurt.

"Yeah," Harry was about to elaborate when Severus barged into the room, looking disheveled as Harry had likely woken him with his Patronus. The Potions Master looked at him expectantly and Harry smiled kind of sheepishly, "I fell out of bed."

Severus snorted as he none-too-gently took the handkerchief from Harry. He inspected the wound, allowing more to drip down in the process, before healing it with a simple charm. He flicked his wand to silently summon Harry's reading chair before sitting and demanding, "Details."

With a deep, fortifying breath, Harry perched on the edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the vision he had, going over every moment, including not on the sight, but his vantage point of seeing through Nagini's eyes, and the fact that he experienced not only Riddle's emotions, but that he could still actually taste blood. Arms wrapped around him from behind, squeezing at all the right times. He finished with his reactions when he woke.

"Albus has sent Tonks and Kingsley to fetch Molly and bring her to St. Mungo's," Severus explained. "Thanks to you she is likely to survive." Harry nodded, relieved to some extent, but not entirely. "Minerva went to wake the Weasleys and send them home so Umbridge can not waylay them." Here he broached the difficult subject at hand. "Harry... your scar..."

"I think," Harry swallowed deeply and opened his eyes. He did not dare look back at Draco, could not bring himself to. Rather, he stared straight ahead, seeing his own suspicions reflected back at him from the coal black eyes of his professor, "I think I'm a horcrux."

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	65. Chapter 65

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**Chapter Sixty-Five**

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The light from the candle flames – just barely bright enough to make each object in the room distinguishable to an eye adjusted to the level of light – reflected and refracted before him. He watched the light dance across the surface of the amber liquid as it swirled, causing the hues to vary from a blinding white to a deep, warm, earthy brown. It was hypnotic, meditative, this play of color and light, sparkling in the liquid and off the pure crystal of the tulip glass itself.

In these times, the Dark Lord rarely called more than one or two of his servants to his side at any given moment. Not only did it make identifying the Death Eaters more difficult for a potential spy in the midst, there was no need for large gatherings as there were no great works in the immediately foreseeable future. Information and infiltration were the goals the Dark Lord had in mind just then. The war he intended to wage was much more subtle this time, and thus much more difficult to counter. Luckily for Dumbledore, whose popularity continued to wane, it meant that the Order of the Phoenix did not need great numbers, as all-out battle between the two forces was highly unlikely.

And luckily for Severus, it meant that there was usually a span of weeks between calls. He felt fairly comfortable in the few evenings after a call to sit and indulge, as he was doing that evening, and to lose himself in his thoughts. His thoughts of late nearly always fell into a circular pattern. Thoughts of the war, both the ones looming and past, thoughts of the school, thoughts of his personal past, they all led to thoughts of one green-eyed Slytherin with a penchant for Gryffindor-like heroics.

In particular that Christmas Eve, his thoughts went to the night that Molly Weasley was attacked while on guard at the Department of Mysteries, and everything that had happened in the few days since. It had been a stroke of luck that Harry saw that exact sojourn of the Dark Lord possessing his snake. Had Molly been found in that particular corridor by unsympathetic individuals, explanations would have been difficult. At the very least, Arthur would have lost his job and the Weasley family would have found themselves in dire straits with their only source of income gone. Any longer before she was found, and Molly would likely have perished.

That had been avoided though, and after some quick thinking Tonks and Shackelbolt had told the Mungo's mediwizards that Molly was bitten in the forest behind the Burrow, while collecting certain potions ingredients that could only be harvested at certain times of night. It was a plausible enough scenario, as the Weasleys could not always afford to purchase ingredients they may need, and Arthur sending for aurors when he found his wife unconscious was not at all improbable.

It was a narrow escape.

Since then, the Weasley family had been safely ensconced at Potter Manor. It was not a matter of safety, nor of ease of travel. The Floo Network made distances on the isle irrelevant, and enough members of the family could apparate that side-along for the rest of the family was not impractical. The reason for the Weasley invasion of Potter Manor was much more mundane, almost laughable, not that Severus was prone to laughter.

With Molly in the hospital, there was no one left to cook. The first time that she had left Arthur to make the food for their children had been the last time (requiring some serious repair to the Burrow's kitchen and the banning of his muggle toys to his shed for several years) and as underage students were not allowed to use magic on the holidays, Ginny, the only Weasley taught to cook, could not legally provide for the family. Severus allowed himself a light smirk as he thought of Harry surrounded by the redheads throughout his winter holiday. While the twins were tolerable, their inventiveness and creativity compensating for their exuberance and lack of social graces, there was much left to be desired from the remainder of the clan.

That night had brought many questions to Severus's mind, along with a few reassurances, suggestions to some answers that were conclusions he dreaded, and at least one uncomfortable revelation. Somehow, he had become attached to the Potter heir, and the thought that he could be carrying around a bit of the Dark Lord's soul was unnerving at the very least – frightening was a more accurate assessment.

Thankfully, Umbridge's legacy at Hogwarts was not likely to last very long. For those who could see through the glamour on Harry's hand, the scars were already beginning to fade, which meant that the compulsion effects of the quill were fading as well. If the young man could manage to avoid further detentions, he would not have any evidence of the quill on his person when the year was at an end.

More likely to leave a mark on his student – protégé, perhaps, as Harry was certainly more than a student – was the experience of sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. Just being in his presence was hideous enough. Severus shuddered at the thought of being within the madman's mind. He certainly had no interest in attempting Legilimancy on the Dark Lord.

Harry must have suspected the meaning behind his scar and connection to the Dark Lord long ere he spoke of it. In truth, Severus was sure that Harry thought of it when he first learned of horcruxes. It was a logical conclusion. Without evidence, though, he was not about to voice his fear to his lover and . . . mentor.

The dream that night, so much more than a dream, could not be explained away by the Dark Lord employing Legilimency to ensnare Harry. No, Severus doubted that even the Dark Lord could use Legilimency while he was possessing Nagini. Dream sharing itself was extremely rare and usually required a bond of the type that was no longer employed by any rational witch or wizard. Not only did such bonds frequently require the participants to follow one another into death, but to solidify they require the use of such magic that, while not strictly illegal, the use of which was enough to bring heavy suspicion down on the users from the Ministry – particularly blood magic and sex magic.

As Severus knew that Harry did not have any bond of the kind with the Dark Lord forged from that failed curse – having no horcruxes of his own the boy would have died that night had that been the case – there were very few possibilities remaining. Indeed, Severus was not well versed in any magic that would accomplish such a link, and his self-inflicted solitude over the years had left him with ample time to read obscure texts from the restricted section of the library. The scar acting as a horcrux was the only conclusion that was believable, as much as he hated to admit so.

He sipped at his cognac, imported from Segonzac, the finest cognac producing region in France. It was a Vielle Réserve from a vineyard owned by the Malfoy family, a distinct advantage from being close to the Head of Malfoy. The only pity, though, was the Dark Lord also favored that particular brandy, and had a tendency to be extremely possessive of his luxuries; Severus was unlikely to get his hands on another bottle until the war ended.

Tipping the finely crafted glass once more, Severus savored the oak flavor from the aging, the cognac only slightly younger than him. He closed his eyes and leaned back, lifting his feet to rest them on the table in front of his couch.

How did one destroy a horcrux?

More importantly, how did one destroy a horcrux without destroying the container?

He would not come to an answer that night, and he refused to spend Christmas Day, which would begin in only an hour or so, contemplating the matter. He was due at Malfoy Manor in the morning for the traditional gift opening and Christmas breakfast. Then, Albus had coerced him to join the majority of the Order at Potter Manor for an early afternoon Christmas Dinner, after which he was required to show his presence about Hogwarts, lest the cretins who had stayed behind demolish the castle in their holiday frivolities. Merely the fact the Delores Umbridge would be attending some Ministry function or another would be further incentive for a little mayhem.

Rather, Severus allowed his mind to wander to the thoughts that he had ruthlessly squashed since the night of Harry's vision – thoughts that he would rather had never appeared in his head.

Severus had been granted many years to grow accustomed to the Potter Heir's disdain for undergarments and clothing in general, such that he was no longer surprised when inspecting the dormitories at night, or when he was called there at night for some problem or another, to find the young man sleeping completely naked, his sheets and blanket kicked to the floor. Nor was he perturbed in the slightest when the younger Slytherin instantly shucked his shoes and as much clothing as was decorous upon entering Severus's private chambers. He had even steeled himself to see his godson sharing the bed of the fully naked Potter; acquiring a bedmate would certainly not put a stop to that practice.

What Severus had not factored into the equation was that at some point Harry would cease being a child.

Once upon a time, Severus Snape had fancied himself in love with Lily Evans. So much so, that he had denied himself any sort of relationship despite the fact that his ardent love was not returned. To that day, he had never entered into any sort of commitment, first due to his pining after a girl he could never have, and then to his career as a spy. At that stage in life, close interpersonal relations could get him killed. Though the war ended, the return of the Dark Lord loomed, and Severus had grown accustomed to a solitary lifestyle – not to mention that his trial and brief stint in the Azkaban holding cells were something of a turn-off for most witches and wizards.

That is not to say that Severus was a thirty-five year old virgin, not by any means. Indeed, the life of a Death Eater made such thing highly improbably, even for someone as odious as Pettigrew (though many of them could only find partners through force, the Imperious Curse a popular solution for that little problem). Severus's encounters consisted primarily of one-night stands, frequently accomplished without even learning the name of his partner. He preferred it that way, as it did not allow anyone, slim as the chances were, to grow any sort of attachment to him and pester him with questions he had no intention of answering.

So it remained that the one and only love of his life thus far was Lily Evans, Lily Potter, and that love for her, though it faded with time and became merely a memory of longing and unfulfilled desire, spurned the young Severus first to follow his gang of friends into servitude to the Dark Lord in a fit of rejection and despair, and then to turn on the Dark Lord in fear that his actions would kill the only person aside from his mother that he loved.

Despite the fact that Lily survived, and the Dark Lord was vanquished for a time, their friendship had all but evaporated as Severus continued to isolate himself and Lily committed herself to her responsibilities as mother to the Potter brood and crafter of spells. They had the occasional contact over the years, but rarely sought each other's company. Yet still – Severus continued to use his love for Lily as a measure against which all potential amours were held to and fell far short.

With love of the mother still a faint echo in his heart, it was with astonishment bordering on shock that Severus had felt stirrings in his chest and heat in his groin at the sight of a maturing Harry Potter, hand holding a bloodied cloth to his forehead with his wand held firmly in the opposite hand while the firelight reflected off the planes of yoga toned muscle. He was a mixture of power and fragility, of innocence and depravity. It had taken extreme fortitude on Severus's part to hide his reaction.

Never before had he felt any sort of attraction to his students. Yes, he had acknowledged the frequently beneficial effects that puberty had on these adolescents under his care, but there was a distinct difference between appreciating the beauty of a fine painting and wishing to pluck said painting off the wall to add to his private collection.

In short, Severus was disgusted with himself. He felt like a dirty old pervert, even if their age difference was not at all remarkable in the eyes of the wizarding world. There was just enough influence from his father – and his muggle prejudices – that relations that crossed generational boundaries felt taboo. Spells that produced detailed ancestry assured that incest was never a risk in the wizarding world, and the long life-span of wizards and witches in times of peace (rare though they might be) made age differences that seemed like great gaps to muggles insignificant to the magical community.

Mostly, it was the fact that he was lusting after his godson's lover that made Severus repress any such desires. He had seen the depth of their feelings firsthand, the way their eyes followed each other from their first day at Hogwarts, how they always sought each other's company, whether to fight or to plot. They had a connection unlike any other he had ever seen, possibly even that of soul-mates. Severus would not dare take any action that could disrupt that bond, or damage his own relationship with either young man.

There was a soft, deep chime from his mantle, as his clock struck midnight, and after another sip from his glass, Severus whispered to the nothingness around him, "Merry Christmas."

Morning dawned bright and cheerful, the sun brightly reflecting off the snow and into the sole window that graced Severus's parlour. He blinked his eyes and wondered exactly when he had fallen asleep. The decanter that held his cognac was firmly sealed, and his glass empty, so he had certainly finished his drinking before sleep took him.

Stretching, Severus cursed himself for sleeping on his couch yet again. Repeated bouts under the Cruciatus Curse made his body feel at least twenty years older than it truly was: his bones aching and his joints stiff. Blearily making his way into his private lab, Severus downed a potion usually taken to relieve the symptoms of arthritis that he adapted for his own use. He also supplied Lucius with the potion, along with a few other fellow Death Eaters, though they paid dearly for the treatment.

Once dressed, Severus left his bedroom to find a Malfoy house-elf in wait. He snorted at Lucius's presumption that Severus would need assistance traveling to Malfoy Manor. He merely pointed the creature towards a stack of tastefully wrapped gifts, and proceeded to ignore it while he finished his preparations. He needed to make a brief appearance at breakfast, if for nothing else than to remind the students still in the castle that they had professors watching over them yet.

Christmas breakfast at Malfoy Manor was as fine a repast as usual, with all of Severus's favorite breakfast treats waiting for him on the sideboard next to the grandiose tree. He ate his small sandwich (grilled tomato atop a sunny-side-up egg, both sitting on a slice of fried bread) while Draco tore into his gifts with the glee of a child half his age – Dark Lords, looming prophecies, and potentially possessed lover forgotten for the moment.

Severus very gracefully accepted his gifts from the Malfoys, nearly the same every year with only mild variations on the theme, politely ignoring the missing bottle of cognac, knowing it would not be there. Oddly enough, they could hide their duplicity from the Dark Lord, but not a simple gift of a bottle of alcohol. Or perhaps it was not so odd, as one mind could only keep hidden so many secrets, and there were other things far more important.

Despite the gaiety of the morning, Severus saw in Draco's eyes that he was not fully in the spirit. The younger Slytherin was putting on an act for his parents, and for Severus, pretending that all was well so as not to add his burden to theirs'. It was an admirable, if somewhat Gryffindorish move on his part, and for the briefest of moments Severus wondered about his godson's sorting, and if the faculty was doing the students any favors by continuing the tradition of the sorting.

Objectively, Severus knew that, while he would have hated to see it, Draco would have done well in Gryffindor, in another time perhaps, without the legacy of his father hanging over him and coloring the perception his peers had of him. Draco had been pampered as a child, and was not as hard as he needed to be to excel in the times ahead. Severus wondered if the young man would be alive still in a year's or time, or in two, and felt a little twist in his chest at the thought.

The contrast with Harry was obvious, and strange in its own way. Coming from a traditionally light family, Harry had been raised as a warrior, raised to pit himself against horrendous odds and come out the victor. Draco, raised in a family typically steeped in the dark arts, was sheltered and spoiled. Yes, he had been taught a great deal of magic, both offensive and passive, before he reached Hogwarts, but never with a mind to actually fight a war. In trying to protect his son from his past, Lucius may have condemned the boy to an early death.

A hand on his shoulder broke Severus out of his morbid musings, and he turned to see Narcissa standing behind him with a sad smile. It would not be difficult to guess the line of his thinking, if not the specifics just then.

"It will be alright, Severus," Narcissa spoke softly, her words likely an attempt to convince herself as much as to comfort her friend.

Playing along, Severus nodded and covered her hand with his, "I know, Cissy. In the end we will prevail." That much, he believed, but he did not know if any of them would live to see it. "I must be leaving; I am expected at Potter Manor within the hour."

She turned to look at the clock behind her and sighed, "Do try to enjoy yourself, Severus, and do not let my wretched cousin antagonize you too much."

"He no longer has that much power over me," Severus admitted to the woman who was once the girl that protected him. It had taken many years, but Severus knew that he had given the Marauders power over him by rising to their every taunt. Of course, the fact that Lily (likely with Harry's help now) would skin them alive if they dared to disrupt the holiday by attempting to torment him brought a small smirk to his face.

He apparated to the edge of the Potter property and walked along a much worn path through a small glade of sycamores towards the manor house. Despite its use as headquarters for the Order, Potter refused to give apparition rights to any of the members outside his family, natural and chosen. Severus respected that decision, even if it inconvenienced him. Potter had learned precaution the hard way.

A low, rumbling roar ripped through his silence and Severus groaned, knowing there was no one nearby to hear. He hated that metal monstrosity that Black somehow slipped through the laws against charming muggle objects. It was a second, echoing roar though, that peaked his curiosity.

Turning off the path and crunching his way through perhaps an inch of icy snow, Severus came upon a clearing and a sight that made him stop in his tracks and close his eyes, wishing that when he opened them he would be alone, all of it a terrible figment of his imagination. One of them was bad enough – what possessed Black to create another?

"Hail and well met, Severus!"

He opened his eyes to see Arthur Weasley approaching him, the cold and excitement tinting his cheeks the same red as his hair. He smiled brightly and gave Severus a brief hug, pounding him on the back in a friendly manner. Despite the general opinion of most Order members, Arthur and Molly were generally amiable (almost parental) towards him – but then, they would likely invite attacking Death Eaters for tea and biscuits.

"Happy Christmas," Severus nodded, and did not return the hug. He might allow it, not wanting to turn even more of the Order against him, but there was no way he would actually show _affection_ towards anyone, at least not in a potentially public setting.

"It is! Truly, a Happy Christmas indeed!" Arthur seemed entirely unaffected by Severus's stiff manner. "Molly is home today! Well, not home precisely, as she's just inside the manor, resting by the fire, but out of Mungo's at least. Not like I could take care of her at home, and we don't have any elves, but Lily offered house space before I even considered the problem."

Severus just hummed and nodded. He was not at all surprised. Lily was exceedingly generous like that, like the way she had befriended an outcast boy once upon a time.

"Isn't it a beauty," Arthur sighed. Severus was almost thankful for the man's particular understanding. He never expected Severus to actually participate in any conversation, so his monosyllabic responses never fazed the red-headed patriarch.

"Hmph." Severus was tempted to add a, 'Bah, Humbug,' but restrained himself. To him, there was nothing beautiful about the sight of a huge chunk of metal charmed to fly, and Merlin knows what else.

"Sirius told me he bought it the day Lily and James asked him to be Harry's godfather and has been working on the charms ever since," Arthur was staring wistfully across the clearing. "He got me to help a bit the past few years. There's even a special ward on there that Lily and Remus invented: protects against all kinds of fire, magic and muggle. Not even fiendfyre can touch her."

On second thought, perhaps Harry owning such a monstrosity would not be such a terrible thing. It could prove useful in the years ahead, especially if his means of travel became limited somehow. After all, it was possible to track any sort of magical transportation, even if the devices used were in sole possession of the Ministry of Magic.

Harry waved to them then, from his perch atop his gleaming black motorcycle, hovering like a broom nearly one hundred feet above the ground.

Arthur clapped his hands together, "Shall we head inside for something hot? Warming charms are wearing off I think."

Severus just nodded and followed the older man, bracing himself for the extreme atmosphere of joyfulness he was about to encounter. If he had known that Molly Weasley had been released from Mungo's, perhaps he would have avoided this gathering despite the disappointment Albus would heap upon him. The celebrating was going to be even more raucous and happy than he had earlier anticipated.

With a sigh, Severus stepped over the threshold into Potter Manor and was enveloped by the scents of Christmas dinner and Christmas cookies, fresh evergreen tree, and the crackling fire. There were twinkling lights, smiling faces, brightly wrapped gifts, and Lily approaching them with two steaming mugs held out in offering.

"Happy Christmas," Severus muttered, taking his mug and sipping the hot mulled wine. He handed over the appropriate gift he had brought for the Potter family, as his hosts.

Lily kissed him on the cheek and for the first time in years the action did not cause a little flutter in his chest.

Severus was doomed.

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	66. Chapter 66

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**Chapter Sixty-Six**

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Each Potter twin held the hand of a Weasley twin and pulled insistently toward their bedroom, the Weasley twins following obediently, if somewhat bemusedly. Ever since Harry had explained to them about magical twins, they had been especially interested in the Potter twins. At first, they wondered why their parents had never spoken about it, had never told them exactly why they were so strongly linked that they often felt they could read each other's minds.

A few clandestine trips to the library (not only did they want to keep their subject of study private, but they had reputations to uphold) and they discovered that the existence of magical twins was not at all common knowledge, and had not been for probably hundreds of years. The only reference they found was in the restricted section, in a book coated with a thin layer of dust. Apparently, not even the house elves were allowed back there, or they didn't risk the danger that some of the books presented.

Suddenly, the world made sense to the twin redheads. They reveled in the newfound depth of their attachment, and the magic behind it. Together, they found obscure locations in the classroom to practice casting simultaneously, to what they, initially, assumed would be the detriment of their schoolwork. However, now that they understood their connection better, their grades actually rose, much to their mother's pleasure. Spell casting came to them with greater ease, and by utilizing their mental connection to the fullest extent they were able, they could comprehend theory far better than ever before.

So following the Potter twins was not in the least bit a chore. Though Fred and George had many things on their mental to-do list, they were glad to put it all aside in favor of studying the only two other people they knew of who could possibly fully relate to them, even if they were only toddlers.

"We don't have much time," Rowan told them after Ryan closed the door and took a seat next to his sister on one of the two twin beds in the room, leaving the Weasleys standing. "You have a lot to do, and we won't see you much for a few years."

Fred and George glanced at each other and raised their eyebrows. Though the facial communication was not _really_ needed, they did not fully trust their mental connection yet, and their silent communication could not always perform on command, or with perfect clarity. Harry had told them that his younger siblings were seers, but knowing a fact and being confronted with it were two entirely different experiences. It seemed they were about to have their futures told – somewhat anyway.

Ryan shifted a bit, and Rowan glanced his way. She grinned at the older twins, "Good first. She will come to you, and you'll know it. Bad stuff now. Stay at Hogwarts as long as you should, and don't go back for a long time. Don't get caught with the swamps."

"They're going to work?" Fred blurted out, unable to help himself. They had been working on the portable swamps for some time. It worked to the point where a gooey, stinky mess erupted from the box, but it was not a swamp, and the twins were aiming for perfection. They wanted insects, plant life, water, and everything else that came with swamps.

Ryan nodded, and, though they had been peripherally aware that he almost never spoke, they hadn't yet considered it in terms of the twin bond. For Fred and George, it was so natural that they shared speech, as well as the occasional thought, that they never really considered that other magical twins might act differently.

As George was about to ask about their connection, though, Rowan spoke again, "No time now. Harry's on the roof."

With that, she pushed them towards the door, not that she was actually strong enough to push them, but neither Weasley resisted.

"Huh?"

It didn't matter which of them spoke, for the sentiment came from both. Half, or more, of what came from Rowan's mouth made no sense whatsoever. They had been considering leaving Hogwarts before the year ended, as they were thoroughly sick of Umbridge and didn't need their N.E.W.T.s to run their business. However, they were not about to abandon their new responsibilities in assisting Harry, not to mention their newfound bottomless potions resource in Professor Severus Snape.

"I've been looking for you!" Neville's voice came only seconds after Rowan shut the door behind them. "I need to talk to you... and Harry... and Snape should be here tonight for a meeting. I can't find him anywhere, though. Do you know where Harry is?"

"Harry's on the roof," the words left George's mouth before he even thought them. As one, the twins shot a quick look back at the closed door. That was one mystery solved.

All three Gryffindors turned to the window as thunder boomed and watched the rain pelting the glass. It wasn't really the season for lightning and thunder, but anyone who lived around Harry long enough learned that seasonal effects on storms didn't affect Harry's storms. Neville shivered, and the twins took pity on him.

"We'll get him."

"I'll be in Harry's room."

It took a moment for the twins to remember the location of the winding stairs that accessed that section of the roof of Potter Manor. The wind pushed them back a bit as they opened the door that led outside onto a widow's walk. The sight that met them was astonishing.

The night was certainly going to be one of surprises. Harry had only displayed a small amount of his control over the elements in the presence of the twins, and as such they had no idea that he was capable of anything like what they were seeing.

Almost impossible to see in the dark of the night, with the heavy rain further obscuring vision, Harry was hovering above the roof, his arms outstretched, his face stretching up to the clouds. His clothes, what little he was wearing anyway, were soaked through. Fred and George cast water repelling and warming charms on each other before stepping outside. Their friend might be able to control the temperature of his own body, but they had no such luck.

Lightning crashed around them, directed perfectly towards the many lightning rods installed on the Manor's roof. Fred and George jumped in unison when one the bolts actually hit Harry, with seemingly no effect. Nearly too frightened to wait any longer, they made their way over to Harry, and were startled again when he looked down at them before they made their presence known.

"I felt the change in the air," was Harry's only explanation as he lowered himself to the surface.

"You can fly," Fred and George grinned broadly at their friend, any creepiness completely forgotten.

Harry shook his head, sending water droplets flying, "Not like some wizards can. I mean, there are some out there that can fly without a broom. There were rumors that Riddle could, but what I do is different. I make the air strong enough to hold me, and I ride on it."

George wondered if Harry ever had the chance to explain his abilities to anyone. Most of the people who knew had been around him as he grew up and discovered how to use his power. While Snape (among those who learned of his powers recently) was far more likely to research the matter thoroughly before grilling his pupil on whatever the books left ambiguous, the Weasley twins wouldn't be bothered with another lengthy research project, especially when all the knowledge they could ask for was contained in one person they had ready access to – especially when they only needed the knowledge piecemeal, as each question came up.

"Neville wants to talk about something."

Harry nodded and the storm subsided slightly. If Fred and George were to guess, the storm had been a natural occurrence, and Harry had taken advantage of it to play a little and to let out some of his anxiety. Though they didn't meddle, and rarely commented, it went without saying that Harry Potter was constantly under more stress each day than most people experienced in a week, or even a month.

Apparently, Harry needed nothing more than Neville wanting to talk to get him in out of the storm. As he walked down the spiral stairs, Fred and George had their wands out, casting spell after spell on their friend. They dried him off, unwrinkled his clothes, fixed his hair to the best of anyone's ability, and, just because they had to of course, attempted to turn his hair green – the key word being 'attempted.' For some reason, the very basic charm did not work while all the others did. So the twins, always possessed with a desire to know _why_, started casting more spells, all of them entirely harmless.

Frowning, the twins followed Harry into his room. Neville, looking up from his seat by the fire, gave the twins a peculiar look, "Why is your hair green?"

Finally reacting to the slew of spells the twins had sent his way, Harry turned around and smirked, while Fred and George looked at each other, flabbergasted. George opened his mouth, but only bubbles floated out. Taking pity on them, Harry cast several _finite_'s in their direction.

"Personal wards," Harry explained, "takes forever to build them up, but totally worth it."

With a silent agreement to look into personal warding, something neither twin had ever heard of, they put the matter to rest and turned their attention to Neville, who was waiting silently for the others to settle in.

Neville fiddled a bit with the edge of his sleeve, clearly uncomfortable with whatever it was he needed to talk about, "Have you noticed anything odd about Ron?"

"Odd?"

"Ronnikins?"

"Never," the twins finished sarcastically.

They were truly disappointed in their younger brother. At least Percy had an overabundance of ambition, and a lack of common sense, to blame for his idiocy. Ron had no such excuse. He was, to put it simply, a pampered, sheltered fool who was prone to jealousy and insecurity. However, he made no efforts to excel at anything, with the sole exception of quidditch (and in that his insecurities made his playing suffer).

Their mum had, with each successive child, sheltered them more and more. The twins had broken out of that cycle, their innate curiosity and mischievousness overriding their mother's protectiveness. It had something to do with the war, they guessed, and mostly with the death of their uncles. Perhaps they had escaped in part because they reminded their mother of what she had lost in Fabian and Gideon.

Regardless, Ginny had managed to come out as quite a spitfire. Seeing that she turned out okay, and the twins did as well, with enough strength of character, Ron should have been able to make something of himself. He had always liked being pampered, and letting others do everything for him, though. Of all the Weasley children, it was Ron and Percy that had the most problems with their poverty. At least Percy did something about it. Ron just complained.

The twins sobered a bit and frowned, "Odder than usual?"

"Don't pay much attention to the prat..."

"... to be completely honest," they admitted with a twinge of guilt. Despite being a complete wet blanket, the prat was still their brother. Then again, Ron hadn't made any effort either.

"He's been writing with Percy a lot," Neville explained, and the others instantly perked up and paid closer attention. Writing to Percy essentially meant that Ron was writing to Fudge, and Ron had information that Fudge would kill for – like the identity of Order members that worked in the Ministry. "He tries to hide the letters, but I recognized Percy's owl, and Ron's not real good at subtlety.

"Anyway, I've played chess him a bunch this holiday. At school he hangs out with Dean and Seamus mostly, especially because Seamus doesn't believe Harry." He sent Harry an apologetic look, which Harry waved away. The Slytherin obviously couldn't care less what Seamus Finnegan thought about him. "He doesn't really have anyone here, 'cause Ginny spends her time with Brie, and I'm mostly with you guys, and Hermione went skiing in Switzerland with her parents."

"Where is he now?" Harry interrupted as he set up an extra silencing ward on his room. Fred and George nodded their agreement. They shouldn't have that conversation if Ron was going to come looking for any of them.

"Ian's playing chess with him," Neville gave them a small smile, almost a smirk, but neither of them had ever seen Neville actually smirk. "I gave him a box of chocolate frogs to keep Ron distracted all night."

"Good job, Nev," Fred thumped Neville's back in approval.

Neville took a deep breath, "Anyway, he's been asking a lot of questions about Harry, about things he has no business knowing, questions I know he didn't think of. Like I said, he's not that subtle."

"This could be a problem..."

"... not for us..."

"... 'cause we're not about to spill..."

"... but he knows way too much..."

"... about the Order."

"He could get Dad fired..."

"... or worse..."

"... others too..."

"... like Tonks and Shacklebolt."

None of them wanted to think about what the 'or worse' could possibly be. Neville was wise to keep Ron busy for the night. If Ian was monopolizing his time, Ron couldn't spy on them _or_ the Order meeting.

Harry frowned, "I might not be overly happy with them just now, but the Order members should know about this."

Harry's door burst open. In keeping with Potter family policy he hadn't locked it, but Brie and Ginny still should have knocked first. Fred and George liked Brie. She was a creative prankster, and had saved Ginny from years of loneliness at Hogwarts. Their sister, due to her possession her first year, hadn't really made any friends in her first year. When Brie had sorted into Gryffindor though, Ginny had found a best friend worthy of a Weasley.

"Go away, Brie," Harry glared at his little sister. Fred and George could empathize, as Ginny could get on their nerves sometimes, but it wasn't their house, so they stayed out of it, noting that Ginny did as well. Their little sister sent them a sheepish smile and shrugged. Whatever they were there for wasn't too important, then.

Brie huffed, "Well that's real nice."

"We're talking Brie," Harry stood up to face his sister. They were about the same height, though neither of them would ever qualify as tall, "and you're not invited."

"You're just like Dad!" Brie snapped as she turned on her heel and stormed away. Ginny waved and followed her friend a few doors down to Brie's room.

Harry looked like someone had hit him as he watched his sister leave. He stood swiftly and headed for his door, "I'll let the Order know."

He left without even a backward glance. Fred and George looked at each other, and then Neville, and all of them shrugged. They knew, of course, about the tension within the Potter family, but it was an unspoken rule that they didn't broach the subject with Harry. If he wanted to talk about it, he would start the conversation. Harry had enough to worry about without his friends hounding him.

"Exploding snap?" Fred asked, pulling a deck out of his pocket.

Neville grinned and sat down on the floor with the twins. George briefly considered asking Brie and Ginny to join them, but figured it was too soon... maybe after Brie calmed down.

As they played, Fred and George thought back to their conversation with the twins. Dating was on their minds a lot, being teenage boys, but neither of them had any idea how to approach someone together. They knew they would never be happy unless their future mate accepted both of them. According to Rowan, _she_ would approach them, rather than the other way around. But who was _she_? Fred and George were practically thrumming with anticipation. But if she was going to approach them, then there was nothing they could do to hurry it along.

Pushing thoughts of their future mate aside, Fred and George silently worked on the formula for the portable swamp as they played cards with Neville. The younger Gryffindor was quiet and unassuming. The twins would be the first to admit that they probably wouldn't have given him a second thought if he hadn't been friends with Harry, but after all, Neville was two years younger than them. They were glad, however, that he was Harry's friend, and now theirs. Neville had proven to be a staunch ally, and quite clever and brave when called for.

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	67. Chapter 67

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**Chapter Sixty-Seven**

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_James was surprised when his study door was flung open to reveal his eldest son and heir. Harry had been avoiding not only James and Lily, but Remus and Sirius as well, ever since he had been denied permission to join the Order. It hurt, but James was determined to protect his son at all costs, even if that cost was his love. That was his job as a parent. _

_He knew that one day Harry would have to fight Voldemort, but if James had anything to say about it, that day would not come until the Order had Voldemort cornered and weakened, easy pickings, and fully unable to harm a single hair on his son's head as Harry eliminated the threat of his evil once and for all._

_Part of him knew it was wishful thinking, that his scenario was never likely to arise. Never in the past had the Order managed to get close to Voldemort, never mind trapping him anywhere. No, a deep, buried part of James's soul was well aware that the only way Harry and Voldemort would fight to the death was if they both came to the fight willingly, and that would only happen if Voldemort was supremely confident in his victory._

_So James did everything he could to delay that fight, even at the expense of others' lives. He had almost lost his son so many times and he did not know if he could survive another. He did not know if Lily could survive another, and if he lost Lily . . . ._

_Yet how could he explain all this to a fifteen-year-old boy? Harry would never accept the dictate that he remain behind while others risked their lives, with the sure knowledge that only he could end this war with a victory for the side of light._

_"Dad," Harry was hesitant, uncertain, fully unlike himself. James's son had been raised to be confident and assertive, proud, bearing himself like the heir to a powerful pureblood family that he was. To appear this way, something must have happened that rattled him, and was yet another sign that his seeking out his father was not merely to mend fences._

_"Come in, Harry," James stood from his desk and sat with his son in the chairs by the fire. One of the house elves, anticipating her masters' needs, brought them tea and shortbread, like they used to share when Harry was little._

_Harry ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands, "I was talking with Neville and the twins, Dad, and they brought something to my attention that the Order should know, but first I want to apologize."_

_"Apologize?" James had never expected this. Part of the downfall in raising Harry the way they did – treating him like an adult long before he was one in truth – was that he rarely backed down in a confrontation of any importance. He had been taught the necessity of sticking to his convictions and retaining his integrity against all odds. Unfortunately, those odds sometimes included the disapproval of his parents and uncles._

_"I . . . . I've been acting like a spoiled brat since last summer," here Harry smirked just a bit. "I guess to some extent I am. It was something I said to Brie that made me realize . . . . You're keeping me out of the Order to protect me – and we both know that there's not much you can do any longer in that sense. So you and Mum are grasping at every way you can think of to keep me out of the war, and I understand why. Just . . . . you need to accept that I _am_ going to be a part of this fight, and probably long before you are ready. By trying to protect me, you may only succeed in leaving me unprepared."_

_James wanted to speak, to say something to refute his son's statement, to protest that there was no way he was going to allow Harry to fight, but three things stopped him: they had brought this upon themselves, training Harry to fight as soon as he could speak; there was a determination, a fire in Harry's eyes that James had only seen once before – in Lily when she lectured Sirius for nearly killing Snape; and his mouth was full of dry, crumbly shortbread._

_"So, I won't fight you on this anymore," Harry leaned back and sipped at his tea, looking every inch the mature adult that James did not want to see in his eldest, not yet. "I no longer think my path lies with the Order. What I need to do . . . .," he looked down, and when he looked up that confident, fiery man was gone, replaced with the vulnerable teenager that Harry truly was, and James was relieved that his son was still in some ways a child. "As few people as possible can know what I have to do, and I will not put you and Mum in a position where you must choose between my safety, and the safety of the rest of the family, of the entire wizarding world. Nor will I allow you to stop me from doing what needs to be done."_

_"Harry," James, having finally washed down the shortbread with his tea, pleaded. Their methods were being turned on them, and James did not like it one bit._

James looked up from his desk as Sirius entered his office, blinking the blurriness from his eyes. He glanced back down at the reports he was supposed to be reviewing; the 'in' pile was still remarkably higher than the 'out' pile. Today, the Head of the Auror Department just could not concentrate on this meaningless drabble.

While the Ministry had no control over the Aurors themselves, they did have the power to demand a ridiculous amount of paperwork on each and every case that Aurors were working – drowning James in bureaucracy. The Minister had just passed a new decree that kept James glued to his desk, going over excessively detailed reports that he had to then summarize into condensed versions for the Minister's perusal. James was certain that Fudge never read a one of them.

"All the support staff is gone," Sirius informed his boss. He grinned, "I've organized the night shift into patrols around the Ministry, Hogsmeade, the Diagon Alley area, and a few other key locales."

James nodded and rubbed his eyes, "Let's get to it, then."

James flicked his wand, sending the paperwork into a neat stack. He was contemplating hiring an assistant whose sole job would be doing this inane task, so that James could concentrate on his actual job. The Ministry wasn't completely to blame, though, as much as James would like to ignore his own part.

To put it simply, he had been distracted lately. He couldn't stop thinking about that conversation with Harry, even with Harry back at Hogwarts for three weeks now. It was bad enough that his son told him he was going to keep Lily and James completely ignorant of his part in the war, bad enough that at fifteen he already _had_ a part in the war, but when James had brought up the Malfoy kid...

_"I don't wish to discuss that," Harry's face had instantly set into a frozen expression of neutrality. The boy needed to work on that. Hiding emotions was all well and good when trying to protect sensitive information, but if it was only used then, the interrogator would know they hit on the right topic._

_James absolutely hated thinking of his talk with his son as an interrogation._

_"You need to be careful, Harry," James tried to approach the issue with as little censure as possible. Harry was already touchy about it and accusations would not help matters. "You know what his father is."_

_Harry closed his eyes briefly and relaxed his face, "We had something, Dad. I'll admit that much. But any further discussion will only hurt someone, and I have no wish to do that."_

_It was an unwritten family rule, yet one that was followed stringently. Due to the family curse – the inability for one Potter to lie to another – if any member of the family did not want to talk about something, that desire was respected. Often then, Sirius and Remus would be sent in, or Frank or Alice, as outsiders who could provide the venue for conversation without the potential for hurtful words that could not be taken back, without the knowledge that any falsehood, no matter how small, would be instantly spotted._

_Thinking he had gotten as much as he could from Harry, James let the subject drop. It was only later that he realized how successfully Harry had danced around the subject. By then, it was too late to ask that Sirius talk to him, as Harry had already returned to Hogwarts._

"Still thinking about it, hm?" Sirius bumped his shoulder against James's.

Nodding, James sighed. He had pacified Lily with platitudes, telling her that he had broached the subject of the potential relationship they had seen that summer, and that Harry told him it was over. Not a Potter by birth, James and the kids could stretch the truth with Lily, though not outright lie to her. It was Sirius he confided in about his suspicions. Lily had too much to worry about.

"I think they're still together," James said thoughtfully. He had been musing over this possibility long enough, "which means that Draco is involved in whatever it is that Harry is doing to thwart Voldemort."

"And he's a liability." Sirius was frowning, and James knew exactly what his best friend was thinking. Sirius had been raised almost exactly as Draco had – to become the Head of a powerful pureblood family, one typically aligned with the darker side of magic, one that frowned down on muggleborns and muggles. Sirius had escaped, had rebelled; was it possible that Draco was in the same situation? Or was Draco trying to infiltrate the side of light and take down Harry. Then there was the horrendous possibility that neither of them spoke, that they almost did not dare to even think – that Harry was straying from the light. James dismissed that idea almost before it entered his mind. There was no chance whatsoever that Harry would go dark.

James knew that Sirius would be incredibly conflicted. He had an instinctive distrust of his fellow purebloods – especially those who put so much value on blood – yet he had to believe that other children of the old families could go against the teachings of their parents. He would be a hypocrite to think otherwise.

"Any developments on Percy?" James questioned Sirius, thinking of children who took a completely different stance than their parents.

Sirius shook his head, "If he's told Fudge much, they're playing it close to their chest, waiting for the perfect moment."

_"There's one more thing, Dad," Harry said, changing the subject altogether. James knew his chance had passed, and the subject of Draco Malfoy was closed, indefinitely._

_"What?" James was intrigued, despite his anxiety and unease. This whole conversation had tilted his world off its axis, and he had not regained his balance yet._

_Harry leaned forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his legs. He sipped his tea before speaking again, "The Order needs to be more careful around here."_

_Indignation swelled up in James for a moment. Just who was Harry to be lecturing him on security? Harry was one of the kids in the house doing his best to spy on the Order meetings last James was aware. It must have shown on his face, because Harry had the good grace to look at least slightly ashamed._

_"That's not what I mean," he ran his fingers through his messy Potter hair, a habit he had certainly picked up from James. "It's almost a foregone conclusion that the Ministry knows exactly who comes here for meetings, even if they don't know exactly what goes on in the Meetings."_

_"How, do you suppose?" James questioned his son. They had been fairly certain that Fudge, while he might have suspicions about certain people's loyalties, had no concrete proof._

_"Ron Weasley has been owling his brother Percy regularly," Harry informed his father. "The twins took notice, and told me about it. They're concerned, because they think Ron would do just about anything for a little recognition. He's been lost in the shadows of his brothers his whole life."_

_James considered the situation for mere seconds before determining that security would be a major discussion at the Order meeting later than evening. He was not looking forward to casting aspersions on one of Molly's precious brood, though at least with Percy there was precedence._

Each lost in their own thoughts, James and Sirius began their spellwork. Objects all over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement briefly glowed blue before settling back to their ordinary state. They then were bathed in purple light as masking spells were applied over the other spells. It would be counterproductive to tip their hand before they played it.

It took them several hours to complete the work in just their department, and there would be several more nights of casting, sneaking into other sections of the Ministry and preparing for the worst. Dumbledore had no idea of what they were doing. The eternal optimist, Albus would not approve.

Exhausted, drained, James returned to his office, searching for Pepper-Up. His night was nowhere near over, "Let's start rotating them in, Siri."

"Ay, ay, Boss," Sirius grinned at his best friend before setting off to pull one of the Auror teams back to the Ministry.

The first Auror to enter his office was a pureblood, so James launched into that version of his speech.

"A choice is upon you, not today, or tomorrow, but fairly soon," said James gravely. "I'm not asking which side you will support – you may not even know."

"Sir," Auror Nettlebaum looked pained.

"No," James held up a hand. "I am firm in my belief that things will get far worse before they get better." He was not going to mention the prophecy that Neville heard. "You may have to make difficult decisions, the lives of your loved ones in the balance. Know that I will never condemn you for protecting your family."

Nettlebaum nodded, and James took a deep breath. Only a few Aurors, those that he knew he could trust without reservation, would be even marginally aware of all his contingency plans. When he was preparing things like this, James knew why the sorting hat considered placing him in Slytherin. He had plans within plans within plans. Never again would he make the mistakes of fourteen years ago, trusting the safety of his family to one flawed chance.

They only spoke for a few more minutes. The talks with the purebloods would be easy for the most part – they had far more options than the muggleborn Aurors. The purebloods would be able coast through the war if necessary, if the other side got control of the Ministry as James suspected they would. There was far too much corruption as it was for them to withstand any sort of intelligent attack – and Tom Riddle was highly intelligent.

It was the muggleborns who faced the real danger – a possible genocide the likes of which the British wizarding world had never faced. With the resources of the Ministry at their disposal, and the ability to make and enforce laws, the Death Eaters were likely to reduce the population of British wizards and witches by at least half.

So James gave each muggleborn Auror his view of what was likely to happen to them and started them preparing to flee and hide at a moment's notice. He used every favor he had in the international law enforcement community to arrange underground travel for as many muggleborns who wanted to leave the country. He assured his Aurors that when the war was over, and sanity returned to the nation, their jobs would be waiting for them.

To his eternal pride and relief, well over half his muggleborn Aurors faced him with steel in their eyes and declared that they would not abandon their home to the rule of bigots and sadists. They were prepared to hide and fight for as long as necessary.

The reaction of the purebloods was altogether different. It was no secret that every pureblood was related in some manner, which meant that civil war pitted family against family, no matter which side a person chose. Their society would be torn to pieces by the time it was all over, and they knew it. Many of them would seal up their ancestral homes (not all of them manors like the Potters or Malfoys had, but most purebloods had at least one house elf that could be sent out for provisions) and wait out the war in hiding. Others would do their best to stay in the Minstry and commit as few atrocities as possible.

Of course, none of them told James this.

Sirius poked his head in the door, "Dawlish is next."

James groaned and let his head thump down on his desk. Dawlish was, in his opinion, the worst sort of Auror under his command, a true Ministry sycophant. If he could ever find good cause, he would fire the idiot in a heartbeat.

It was early morning, time for shift rotation to start, when James finished with the Aurors on duty. He would have to come in towards the end of the next few rotations to make sure he spoke to every Auror in his charge.

He stretched, hearing a series of pops ascend his spine. What he really needed was about a week of sleep, a few good meals, and maybe a run through the forest in his stag form. A good duel would be nice, too. Maybe he would join a patrol sometime soon. Shaking his head, he knew that he needn't go looking for a fight – there would be plenty of fighting soon enough.

"We got a few hours before the workers start coming in," Sirius commented from the doorway.

James looked up and saw the impish smile on his best friend's face. He knew that look. It always preceded some act that earned them scads of detentions at Hogwarts.

"What?"

"Well," Sirius's grey eyes were sparkling with mischief, "we're planning on taking a bunch of stuff with us when we leave, right?" James nodded slowly, starting to get an idea of where this was headed. He felt his stiffness leaving, his headache fading, his fatigue being replaced with anticipation. "What say we leave a few things behind, you know, presents for our successors?"

"Not just ours."

"No, the new Minister should be greeted properly."

The two men connected their gazes just long enough to communicate their absolute agreement silently, a mutual sense of adventure and brotherhood that had begun at age eleven and never left them.

Gripping their wands loosely yet with skill and determination, they began whispering back and forth as they headed out of the Department, leaving fearful Aurors in their wake. A few of the purebloods realized just who they would be up against if they stayed with the Ministry in the event of a Death Eater takeover, and shivered.

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A/N: Yeah, it's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time – but here's a treat for you, two chapters for the price of one!

Please Review!

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	68. Chapter 68

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**Chapter Sixty-Eight**

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Bone-chilling laughter woke Draco from a sound sleep – and a rather nice dream that in his most secret thoughts he hoped to enact some day. Still not fully awake, and wondering just what that awful sound was, Draco turned to see if it woke Harry as well, and if he knew what was making such a terrible noise.

Draco nearly fell off the bed in fright.

Harry's face was only partially illuminated in the glow of the fireplace, the lighting only heightening the eerie atmosphere. The other Slytherin's expression was a contorted joy, yet with nothing pleasant about it. Sheltered as his childhood had been, and missing the end of Harry's first two adventures, this tied with watching a werewolf transform as the scariest thing Draco had ever seen.

It was not the first time that Harry had somehow channeled Riddle's emotions, but this was the most extreme instance so far, and Draco had no idea what to do. He knew that any spell he cast at Harry would be deflected by his shields, as Draco was not willing to cast anything strong enough to get through.

Bewildered, and acting on pure instinct, Draco was almost unaware as his hand flung out and slapped Harry, leaving a red mark on one of his cheeks – but the insane laughter stopped.

Shaken, Draco watched his lover with apprehension, and saw he was equally shaken. Emerald eyes stared back at him with awareness and fear that Draco almost misinterpreted.

"Thank you," said Harry in a near-whisper.

Draco just nodded, not really trusting himself to speak just yet.

Harry turned away for a moment and grabbed his wand. He passed it over his face and spoke a mild healing charm, banishing the evidence of Draco's intervention.

"He's happy about something," Harry still was not looking at Draco, and Draco understood why. "He got something he wanted."

It was entirely creepy that Harry knew this, and worrisome that it was all he knew. If he was able to tell just what it was that had Riddle so thrilled, then there would be some value, some positive aspect to these episodes of foreign emotion, but as it was, all they did was leave Harry with unanswerable questions.

Again, Draco nodded, and did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around the shorter Slytherin and held him tight, doing his absolute best to insulate Harry with his body, to block out all outside influence with his very presence.

Something about his method worked, as Harry relaxed into him, and turned to capture his gaze.

"Never let him take me."

"Never."

Harry tilted his head back and up, seeking Draco's lips with his own, and claiming them, reasserting the dominance of his own mind in his body. Both of them already unclad, it did not take long for the kissing to lead elsewhere, for hands to roam, and mouths to wander, until they strove to make each other forget, if only for a little while, the so very unwelcome intrusion of their night.

Draco stretched upon waking, and found Harry already awake, as it was every morning. He silently watched Harry's graceful transition between yoga positions and admired the smooth lines of his body, marveling that he shared it every night. There was a soft breeze in the room of typically still dungeon air, and Draco smiled. Only Harry could make a winter morning in the dungeons feel like a sunny spring afternoon on a terrace. Knowing that temperature had little effect on Harry, Draco knew it was his benefit, that Harry did this because of Draco's sensitivity to cold. He smiled a private little smile, the kind that would never make an appearance where anyone other than Harry could see him.

The episode of the night before was still in the back of his mind, but was less frightening and disturbing in the light of day. Draco still wondered just what had Riddle so pleased, but the possibilities did not consume his thoughts. Instead, his mind was on the day ahead – classes, and Umbridge, and preparing for the O.W.L.s, even if they were several months away.

With Harry still engrossed in his morning routine, Draco slipped into his own room, from which he left to shower, brush his teeth, and get dressed. With the need to keep their continued relationship secret, Draco was finding it much easier to wake up early in the morning, and he was also discovering the benefits. He had longer to shower, and arrived at breakfast earlier. That allowed him to linger while eating, and he was substantially more relaxed when he arrived at his morning's first class.

Pasting his superior smirk on his face, Draco met up with Pansy in the common room. It killed him that he had practically shut her out of his life, and even more so that she was entirely unaware. He still spent a great deal of time with his surrogate sister, but the vital elements that now made up the essential Draco were entirely hidden from her. The war had created a chasm of necessity between them that he doubted would ever be healed. He could never ask her to go against her family for him – and that was what she would have to do to support him – so she remained outside his new world. The worst part was that he couldn't apologize to her, because that would mean alerting her to the situation.

The great hall was still mostly empty when they arrived, and they took their place near the top of the Slytherin table. Draco always sat with a good view of the Gryffindor table, a practice unchanged from their earlier Hogwarts days. He was thankful he had that habit, as it allowed him to watch Harry without drawing suspicion. Ever since the beginning of the year, Harry had sat at the Gryffindor table, flanked by the Weasley twins with Neville across from him. Draco expected an Educational Decree any day now that declared students must sit at their assigned House tables for all meals.

Blaise came in and sat next to him, not unusual, but not an everyday occurrence.

Draco mostly ignored his housemates while he began his meal. He did not get any post that day, as he did not subscribe to the _Daily Prophet_. Any article of importance would be brought to his attention, either immediately by a fellow Slytherin, or later in the day by Harry or one of their co-conspirators.

"Shit."

The curse was muttered softly next to him, barely loud enough for him to hear, yet it drew his attention all the same. Blaise was not normally one to use crass language in public. Draco leaned to his side and looked over Blaise's shoulder at his paper. Immediately he felt the blood draining out of his face. An icy sensation traveled down his spine and he swore he could hear the quickened 'thud, thud' of his heart.

There, on the front page, was a photograph of his aunt and two uncles, none of which he could remember, as they had been incarcerated for most of his life. He knew exactly what they had done to get their one-way tickets to Azkaban, though it was not a topic of discussion at home. Severus had taken him aside years ago after he saw their names on the family tapestry and asked his mother about her sisters.

He knew then that he did not want to go home that summer, but would likely not have a choice. With Aunt Bella loose, she would almost certainly visit the Manor, if not reside there, and his parents would not be able to explain away his absence. Draco had no desire to meet his mother's family, who had apparently been insane, or close to it, even _before_ spending over ten years with the dementors.

"Uh oh," Blaise quickly passed the paper to Draco, "read, quickly."

Draco skimmed down the article, ignoring the sounds of fear building in the hall. There was a gasp at the Gryffindor table, some sniffs from a Hufflepuff, and tense murmuring all around. He skipped over the descriptions of their crimes, and the speculation that Pettigrew was responsible for their escape – for of course, the Dark Lord could not possibly have anything to do with it, being permanently dead and all.

Just as he saw the name 'Potter,' thus discovering the section he needed to read, the tension in the hall rose to a palpable level. There was an exclamation of outrage across the hall, followed by a sharp, "Miss Potter," from Umbridge, who was stalking over to the table of red and gold. Draco glanced up briefly and saw that each Weasley twin had a tight grasp on one of Harry's arms.

Reading as quickly as possible, Draco forced a sneer onto his face, even as his stomach turned and his every instinct told him to get to the Gryffindor table as fast as possible.

_...and the lack of security at Azkaban casts a shadow over the Auror Department, led by Head Auror James Potter. Is this the man we want in charge of the safety of our world and of our children? One of his Head Aurors is none other than Sirius Black, cousin to the escapee Bellatrix Lestrange. Furthermore, it is well known that Potter and Black associate with well-known werewolf Remus Lupin. Potter and his wife, Lily Evens Potter (muggle-born) even employ this half-breed as a tutor for their impressionable children, perhaps explaining some of the darker characteristics of the Boy-Who-Lied. Our Head Auror clearly makes poor choices in his private life. How can someone of such questionable judgment be employed by the Ministry in such a vital role? Recall, dear readers, that Potter chose Pettigrew as his Secret Keeper, that he was a close friend to the Death Eater . . . ._

The article went on, and Draco looked once more to the Gryffindor table. He knew he would not like what he saw.

"That's my godfather!" Brie Potter snapped across the table at one of her housemates.

Umbridge had made her way to the table by then, and Harry had wrenched free of the Weasleys' grasp. Draco felt his hand twitching towards his wand, but knew he could not intervene.

"Is there a comment you wish to make, Miss Potter?" Umbridge's sickly sweet voice was heard throughout the hall, as all the students looked up from their papers and conversations. By then, they had all read the scathing attack on the Potter family. Luckily, the vast majority of students had loved Lupin's lessons, and so immediately discounted the criticism in the _Prophet_.

"No, Ma'am," Brie visibly reined in her temper, her teeth gritted.

Umbridge smiled at the third year girl, a predatory look on her amphibian face, "A pity that your parents are so unconcerned with your well-being, putting you in the care of a half-breed not only for your lessons, but in the event of their untimely deaths."

"I love my godfather," Brie declared, her voice strained, tears building.

Harry stood behind Umbridge, ready to protect his sister if necessary, despite the frantic efforts of several Gryffindors to return him to his seat. Part of Draco wanted to smack Harry for putting himself exactly where Umbridge wanted him, but he also felt pride in his lover for protecting his family.

"Brie," Harry interrupted pleasantly, "would you like to come sit with me?"

The young girl stood sharply, her bag in hand, and made to join her brother, but was prevented by Umbridge, who pressed down on Brie's shoulder, forcing her to sit.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. That woman could not feasibly any more stupid than she already was. When it came down to, the Umbridge family had little to no status, and the Potters, while clearly out of favor at the moment, were an old, proud family, backed by the Black, Longbottom, Dumbledore, Diggory, and Bones families, and likely several others. Not even Fudge could stand up to all of them if they decided to band together and make themselves heard. Why they hadn't on the subject of Voldemort . . . . that was food for thought at a later time.

Harry's wand was out in a flash, and his voice was full of menace, "Take your hands off my sister, Professor."

Snape was up in a flash, and he bellowed across the hall, before Umbridge could respond, "Potter and Potter, detention with me for a week. Come to my office immediately!"

Both sets of green eyes like thunderclouds – like those gathering above them as evidenced by the charmed ceiling of the great hall – the Potter siblings left the hall as one for the dungeons, as the Headmaster began to address the students, canceling the first class of the day.

Little by little, the tension lessened, though the atmosphere was still one of fear. Whispers that Potter might not be a liar after all were heard throughout the student body. Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom, both mentioned in the article as victims of the Lestrange family, received more attention than either was comfortable with. Draco, as to nephew to the aforementioned escapees, would have as well, had Greg and Vince, along with the other Slytherins of their year (barring Harry of course), not shielded him from the masses. Draco supposed the death glare he cast upon anyone foolish enough to approach him helped some.

When Draco was finally able to escape his friends towards the end of the day, he tracked Harry down rather easily by going to Severus's quarters. He was not surprised to find his lover dueling his godfather, the spells flying fiercely through the air, colliding with great explosions of light or impacting shields, sometimes deflected to leave scorch marks on the walls. Harry was clearly upset, the fire roaring in the fireplace, and the wind blowing through the room evidence. There was even rain falling from the high ceiling, yet disappearing before it touched either combatant.

He knew not to interrupt, though both Harry and Severus had to be aware of his presence already, so Draco put down his bag and sat against the wall, readying his wand to shield against stray curses. He did so none-too-soon, as he was required to block a purple streak with a quick flick of his wrist and a murmured incantation. Deciding to keep his shield active, Draco settled down to watch.

While Severus certainly had the benefit of experience, both in years and in battle, if Harry were to incorporate his elemental abilities, the fight would end in an instant. As he wished to keep them a secret, though, it was essential that Harry be able to survive a fight with Death Eaters without calling on wind, fire, or water.

Even without yielding the elements, Harry was a sight to behold. Draco thought back to watching Harry practice yoga, or dancing at the Yule Ball with his sister, as he saw the grace with which Harry moved as he fought. He knew no other teenage boy so very aware of the interaction between his body and the space around it. Curses missed him by bare millimeters at times as Harry twisted or ducked, never ceasing movement. A spin was used to dodge one spell, and as his arm came around the momentum fueled a curse flung from his wand. He ducked another curse and swept out a leg in a physical attempt to knock Severus off his feet.

It was like watching choreography, pure art, and if the meaning behind it were not so very deadly, Draco would be able to watch for hours. This duel, however, was combined stress release for Harry and practice for battle – a battle that was not far off.

Draco hated to admit it, but he was somewhat squeamish. The sight of blood, whether his own or someone else's, made him physically ill. Just the thought of spilling someone else's blood was terrifying. Yet he knew that before the end, he would have to face that prospect. Whichever side he ended up fighting with (unlike so many out there he was well aware he would not have the luxury of choosing – circumstances would force him to one side or the other – or remaining neutral), he would be required to hurt others.

What was it Harry had said once – to ensure peace we must prepare for war? It was a quote from something or another. Draco would give his last galleon to live in a time of peace, but such thoughts were pointless, as peace could not be purchased for any price.

Finally, Harry and Severus lowered their wands and bowed, accepting a draw for the evening. They cast cleaning charms on themselves and set about repairing any damage to the room as Draco lowered his shield and stood to help them. He worked with Harry to charm away the scorching on one of the walls and allowed himself to revel in the quiet togetherness for just a moment.

"How was detention?"

"Ha, bloody, ha," Harry scowled at him. "Umbridge came down to observe, to ensure, I suppose, that Severus was actually making us do something, so we spent two hours elbow deep in newts, disemboweling them and harvesting all the useful parts for ingredients. Why the man can't just buy newts eyes like everyone else . . . ."

Harry, of course, knew that freshly harvested ingredients were superior to those purchased at the apothecary, so Draco didn't bother mentioning that fact. The dark haired boy just needed to grumble to someone, and Draco was perfectly fine being that someone. There was clearly something else though, something festering, as the duel should have been enough to bleed away that frustration.

"What did she do?"

Harry grit his teeth, and the fire in the fireplace leapt, sparks flying out onto the stone floor. Severus glanced their way, a dark, knowing look on his face. Whatever it was, he was not pleased, either.

"She took Brie away for the 'second half' or her detention," Harry ground out.

Draco was puzzled, not sure why that was so bad, "Harry . . . ?"

"This has gone far enough, Dray," Harry's magic was manifesting itself, and not in the elements. The air felt charged, almost heavy, and Draco was, for a fraction of an instant, a little afraid of his lover. Severus was headed over to them.

Once more unsure of what to do, Draco did the only thing he could think of, trusting his instincts again, and kissed Harry deeply, forcing the other Slytherin to transfer his energy from anger to passion. Though Draco initiated the kiss, and had to all but force it, he soon found himself pressed against the wall, Harry reasserting his domination in all acts sexual. Releasing control, Draco allowed Harry to grip him almost painfully and felt his own tension yielding as frantic, harsh kisses softened into light caresses. Eventually, Harry just rested his head against Draco's chest, one hand gripping a fistful of robes that were luckily charmed to prevent wrinkling.

Draco did not know when he had shut his eyes, but when he opened them he saw that his godfather had turned away, his posture even stiffer than usual, and all the blood rushed to Draco's cheeks. He coughed lightly, getting the man's attention, and Severus turned back to them, spots of color on his high cheekbones.

"I will not allow it."

"Hmm?" Draco hummed, nudging Harry gently.

Harry lifted his head and looked over to Severus, "I will not allow that bitch to torture my sister."

Looking back and forth, Draco was sure he missed something, "Yeah, the woman's evil, but _torture_? She couldn't get away with . . . ."

The looks directed at him from two very different sets of eyes instantly shut Draco's mouth. He thought back to Harry's detentions with that foul woman and recalled that he always went to see Severus immediately after. His own eyes hardened as he realized that they had been lying to him for months.

"What did she do to you?" He would not permit this to go on.

Harry did not answer. Whether he was protecting Draco, or withholding the information in some sort of attempt to prove his own strength, or if it was a weird battle of will with Umbridge, Draco didn't care. He only knew that Harry had been hurt, Harry had not told him, and Harry was still refusing to talk.

"Sev?"

Draco's godfather raised an eyebrow at the Boy-Who-Lived, who stalked to the other side of the room. It was his own fault, really. If he didn't want Draco to know, he shouldn't have brought up the subject with Draco in the room.

"She uses a blood quill in detentions, Draco."

A smirk bloomed on his face. Harry truly was an idiot, and not enough of a Slytherin. He had completely forgotten who some of his allies were.

"Well," Draco adopted his haughty, pureblood heir tone, "Father simply won't stand for this. Imagine my surprise when I, mischievous teen that I am, tripped this hapless blood-traitor, only to discover that there were _words_ etched into her hand. Knowing that it had to be blood magic, and that such a useless witch wouldn't know the first thing about the old arts, I, of course, sent off a letter to my father immediately."

Harry was looking at him slightly dumbfounded, blinking in disbelief. Truly, Draco scoffed to himself, had it never occurred to the clueless prat that there were ways of dealing with odious bitches like Umbridge? When she was just making up ridiculous rules it was one thing, but torture of students – regardless of their heritage or politics – was an act that the wizarding world would not ignore.

Severus was smirking as well, but Draco was suddenly furious, "You knew! You knew all this time and you've done nothing!"

"Watch your tone, young man," Severus snapped right back at him. "The headmaster expressly forbade any of the staff to risk their jobs in any attempts to get rid of that Ministry bitch. In addition, my _other_ master is finding the chaos at Hogwarts highly amusing, and has ordered me to let Umbridge wreak havoc. The Wizengamot still harbors doubts as to my reliability. An accusation from me would only serve to leave Slytherin House unprotected, under Merlin knows whose guidance!"

His godfather loomed over him, and Draco gulped. The only other time he had ever snapped at the man he had sworn never to do so again. Severus did not need curses or a heavy hand to convey his disappointment and displeasure. The man could cut you to threads with his scathing tongue alone.

"Never question my integrity again, Dragon."

Draco nodded, and shifted his attention. Harry was standing in front of the fire, staring into the flames. He looked small just then, cast in silhouette as he was, with his shoulders weighed down by invisible burdens. Draco knew he could not carry any of the loads for Harry, nor could he provide false comforts, but there was much he could do, if only Harry would let him.

Quietly, Draco enfolded the shorter Slytherin from behind, silently lending himself to booster Harry's already formidable strength. Alone, Harry might break under all the pressures, but together they would weather them and survive.

The next morning, Draco loitered outside the great hall, chatting with Theo Nott and glaring at mudbloods and blood-traitors. He cast a quick trip jinx at Brie Potter as she entered the hall and, predictably, the girl flung out her hands to catch herself, her bag splitting as it hit the floor (thanks to a hex from Theo) and scattering the contents all around her.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the physical evidence of Umbridge's detention scratched onto the back of her hand, _I will respect my betters_.

"Do you see what I see?" Draco hissed under his breath to Theo, motioning with his eyes.

As Brie scrambled to pick up her books, aided by her friends, her hand remained bared.

Theo drew in a sharp breath. The Notts might be dark, and the Death Eaters might do terrible things in their service to the Dark Lord, but no one, _no one_, in the wizarding world truly approved of torturing children. After all, to take a practical and Slytherin view, even the children of blood-traitors had the potential to turn to the dark – even muggle-borns could! And, Draco reminded himself with a smirk, there was a history of dark children helping the light.

"I believe I have neglected my filial duties," Draco commented loftily as they entered the hall.

Theo grinned maliciously, "Yes, one must keep one's parents informed of the doings at Hogwarts."

"Of course," Draco frowned, though he was quite pleased Theo was falling in line. Despite their amusement at the turning of the tables in regards to favoritism of the Houses, none of the Slytherins actually _liked_ Umbridge. In fact, they mostly saw her as a boorish upstart, with delusions of grandeur above her station. It was time to take her down a notch. "Father will need proof, irrefutable proof, and true motivation."

Theo nodded, "Some parties will not be entirely pleased."

"This _does_ call for a delicate approach."

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A/N: Phew! Next chapter already in the works – the muse returns with a vengeance!

Please Review!

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	69. Chapter 69

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**Chapter Sixty-Nine**

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"I am saddened to inform you," Dumbledore addressed the students one morning in mid-January, "that Madam Umbridge has been urgently recalled to the Ministry, and will no longer being teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts." The applause that rang through the hall was nearly deafening, and Draco had a decidedly smug look on his face.

Harry, not for the first time, figured he should have told Draco about the detentions immediately, instead of jumping to conclusions. The other Slytherin certainly got his revenge, just in a more controlled and devious manner than Harry had assumed.

Dumbledore held up his hands for silence, and eventually the students quieted once more. "Yes, yes, we all wish Madam Umbridge well at her new post. Until a replacement teacher can be found, your other professors will be filling in on a rotating basis. Classes will continue as usual. Enjoy your breakfasts."

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, and he was not the only one. There were actually several students that looked decidedly proud of themselves, or their families, and with good reason. The letter Harry got from home meshed neatly with the one that Lucius wrote to Draco, if each of their father's reports was taken with a grain of salt, or an entire shaker, as each man seemed determined to exaggerate their own contribution while downplaying that of the other. Together, Harry and Draco thought they managed to put together a fairly unbiased version of the events that led to Umbridge's dismissal.

Apparently, the instant that Lucius received the photograph of the lines etched into Draco's hand (Harry was still a bit mad that the prat got detention on purpose with the sadist – he hadn't even been there to see her reaction to Draco calling her a toad-faced bitch), he had stormed into James Potter's office and demanded a full investigation. When faced with the heads of six families (Potter, Black, Longbottom, Bones, Malfoy, and somehow Nott senior was involved as well) Fudge had nearly wet his pants. Of course, Harry's father, godfather, and honorary Uncle Frank were seemingly there in their capacities as aurors, and Madam Bones as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but their societal status could not be overlooked in such a situation.

Despite several of them being out of favor at the moment, he _was_ dealing with four of the most powerful members of the Department of Law Enforcement, along with two of his most ardent supporters, who routinely contributed large sums of galleons to Ministry and charitable efforts. That, combined with the incontrovertible evidence that Umbridge was using a dark artifact on _students_, left Fudge with no wiggle room whatsoever.

They teamed up on the Minister, presenting the incontrovertible evidence provided by the Malfoys, in a somewhat ironic twist of justice actually working _and_ working in their favor, along with several demands. It had been a fine balancing act for Malfoy and Nott. The Dark Lord had enjoyed hearing the tales coming out of Hogwarts, and two of his top lieutenants were interfering without orders. However, if he wanted their continued support, the Dark Lord knew better than to threaten the well-being of their children.

The Ministry employees, on the other hand, needed to be somewhat restrained in their demands, as they could not use up the little political capital that was available to them all in one meeting. Making it seem like they were there mostly to support and corroborate Malfoy and Nott, however unusual it was, made Fudge far more likely to capitulate.

He _had_ managed to negotiate though, with the end result removing Umbridge from Hogwarts and keeping the whole fiasco out of the papers. After all, he had a firm grip on _The Daily Prophet_ just then. They didn't print an advertisement for Sleekeazy products without Ministerial authorization.

So Umbridge was gone, and good riddance, but Fudge was still going to have a High Inquisitor at the school. On the plus side, there would be no more torturing of students; Fudge would see to that or risk losing his job. Unfortunately, the Ministry, Fudge's portion of it anyway, would keep their ability to spy on the school, but mostly on Dumbledore and Harry. It was somewhat grating, but workable – and hopefully there would be a defense teacher that would actually teach some defense. Harry and Draco both agreed that it probably would have behooved them to give Dumbledore a bit of warning so he could have found a teacher before the Ministry stepped in once more, but only hindsight is perfect, and nothing they did now would change that oversight.

At least Defense classes were interesting for the first time since the previous year's imposter taught. Harry's class had Professor McGonagall providing them with a basic overview of what they might expect to see on their O.W.L. exam, with a side of the use of transfiguration in dueling. Every Slytherin paid rapt attention and took detailed notes, as their studying time for exams was already limited. Harry made a copy of his notes for Hermione, figuring correctly that she would be ecstatic to get an outline around which to plan her studying.

Unfortunately, the Umbridge exodus ensured Harry a massive headache from the members of the DA.

"I don't see why we're still here," Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff who had been vocally against Harry from the start, complained loudly at the session the night of Dumbledore's announcement.

Hermione, always with an instant reply for anyone, piped up, "There's a war going on out there! We have to know how to fight!"

Harry groaned at this, and buried his head in his hands as arguments sprang up all around the room. The cacophony of voices grew ever louder.

"You-Know-Who isn't back!"

"I'm not fighting in any war."

"His name is _Voldemort_!"

Gasps rang out from several arguing pairs all around that one.

"And there is a war."

"So I said, I'm not showing you anything, you pervert!"

Picking up that little bit, Harry lifted his head and curiously looked for the source, to no avail. Having had enough he lifted his wand and issued forth a bang, accompanied by a bright flash of red light. Harry then waited for everyone to stop talking and pay attention, which did not take long.

"Personally, I'm more concerned that everyone here passes their exams," Harry scowled at the room as a whole. "Whether there is a war," he nodded to Hermione, "or not," Smith received a cool glance, "I have no wish for any of you to go out and fight grown wizards and witches with more years experience in battle than you've been alive."

"But. . ."

"Hermione," Harry's scowl deepened, "my understanding when we began this group, was that you, and all of you," he included the rest of the students in his little lecture, "were afraid that Umbridge's curriculum would result in you failing the O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. exams, and thus severely hamper your future careers.

"Yes, we worked on the Patronus Charm, which is not generally taught at Hogwarts, but that was at your request." Feeling highly annoyed, Harry continued, "Not one of you has a strong enough charm to chase away dementors, but it may get you some extra credit on exams."

Hermione looked crestfallen, but Harry did not particularly care. That girl always wanted to be involved in everything, and that was a dangerous habit.

"Look, let's say, for argument's sake only," Harry shot Smith and a few others a warning glance, "that I'm perfectly sane and You-Know-Who is alive, kicking, and about to wage war once more. I'd be perfectly happy if each and every one of you fled the country and left the fighting to the adults. If you chose to come back once you graduated and gained a bit of experience, fine, but I'm _not_ training up an army here. I'm teaching you the practical spells that Umbridge refused to teach so you can pass your Ministry mandated exams."

"You don't want us to fight?"

More than one student voiced the question, and more than that looked incredibly confused. Hermione, Brie, and Ginny looked close to tears.

Neville snorted, "Who here thinks they could best Snape in a no-holds-barred duel?"

Several faces turned white, and gulps were audible. Realization of what the real world might hold for them began to settle into many of the young minds.

"How many muggle-raised here have seen at least one war film?" Harry changed his track briefly.

Hands shot up all around the room, including a few purebloods like Neville and the twins, who had joined the Potters on a few movie nights after the younger Potters were asleep.

"Not even most muggle films can depict the brutality and sheer horror of war," Harry lowered his voice a bit, and not another sound could be heard. "None of us were alive the last time, but many of us have heard stories. At least one of my parents' friends was found dead, his body parts scatted all over the country.

"War is a terrible thing, and I would give anything, _anything_, if there was never another war in my time, or my children's time, or their children's time." Harry paused for a moment and considered leaving it at that, but decided to forge ahead just a bit more.

"I am doing nothing to force you all to keep coming to these meetings, and frankly, I would have far more time for my own studying without them, but if you want to continue, I will as well. From here out, though, I am banning all discussion on whether or not You-Know-Who is back. Just keep in the back of your minds, he's not the only dark wizard who fought in the last war. He had allies, and not all of them went to Azkaban. Even if you think there will never be another war, that does not ensure that you will never face a dark wizard intent on killing or torturing you."

Harry left the room, followed closely by Neville.

"On that bright note. . ."

Harry laughed, and slung an arm across his brother's shoulders, "Thanks, Nev. It's good to know I'll always have your support."

"Never doubt it," Neville grinned, though it faded slowly, o be replaced by a thoughtful frown. "I don't know what to do about Hermione."

"What do you mean?" Harry hadn't been able to talk much with his friends outside of Slytherin, except for the meetings in Snape's quarters, and Neville hadn't once brought up Hermione there.

Neville chewed his lower lip a bit, and his hands fidgeted with the sleeves of his robes, "It's like she thinks that the whole war will fall to us, like because the adults aren't keeping us in the loop that they're not doing anything."

"And you can't even tell her half what you know," Harry saw the problem from Neville's eyes instantly, and he knew this was going to be an issue eventually. His blood brother had a serious crush, and didn't want to keep secrets from Hermione, but despite her current lack of faith, she would certainly balk at keeping secrets from Dumbledore and outright disagreement with him in some things.

"I know she can't join us," Neville said urgently, as if seeing the direction of Harry's thoughts, "I just. . ."

"You wish she didn't see the world in such black and white," Harry gave Neville a small, mischievous smile, "and that she didn't think the sun shone of Weasley's arse."

Neville's face screwed up in disgust at the image, but he nodded anyway, "Ew."

"My thoughts exactly," Harry nodded pompously.

Neville shoved Harry lightly, and Harry shoved back. It was liberating to have such freedom of the halls again, without fear of the giant pink toad leaping out at them to assign ridiculous detentions. They horsed around a bit, relieving tension that had been building for months and reaffirming their bond.

"Speaking of arses," Neville waggled his eyebrows at Harry.

With a laugh Harry grinned, "Yeah, I wasn't expecting to finish up so early. I should be heading to my room."

Neville, still smiling, shook his head, "I don't want to know about it."

"You're just jealous."

"Not like that."

"I know."

And Harry did know; Neville had no interest at all in the same sex. His heart was set on Hermione Granger, the poor boy. Harry still considered Hermione a friend, but he could never spend the rest of his life with her.

Feeling lighter than he had in months, Harry took his time getting back to the Slytherin common room. Once there, he looked at all the supposedly covert glares, suspicious glances, and reassuring nods aimed in his direction, any one of them possibly a cover for something else. In a decidedly un-Slytherin manner he addressed his housemates en masse, "Oh, blow me."

In his room Harry kicked off his shoes, quickly followed by his socks, robes, shirt, and trousers. Finally comfortable, and naked as the day he was born, Harry reclined on his bed and just stared at the enchanted canopy, thankful that night had fallen and the sky was clear so he could gaze at the stars. The sight of the full moon made him think briefly of Moony, but he did not want to linger on the pain his uncle would feel the coming day. He brought up a light breeze and had it ruffle his hair lightly. The room was a little moist, so he worked on his fine control by lowering the ambient humidity. It was difficult to do without drying out the air altogether.

The entrance of another person was detected immediately, but as no one other than Draco ever came through Draco's door, Harry didn't move.

"I hope that was directed at me," Draco drawled, his tone teasing just a bit.

Harry smiled, "I was speaking figuratively, not literally. I don't want Bulstrode's mouth anywhere near me, not to mention Goyle's, and especially that particular of my body. She's probably a biter."

"Blech," Draco grimaced and made a gesture that his father would certainly demonstrate him for if he saw.

Harry's grin only widened. He was happier than he could say that Draco was fully comfortable walking in on Harry completely naked and that he made no comment.

Of course, Harry's nakedness did have some effect on Draco, and the rising heat in the blonde Slytherin's body certainly affected Harry. It was a cyclical cause and effect, as Harry's growing arousal was clearly visible, and only served to increase Draco's need.

Harry sat up slowly, and watched Draco with hungry eyes as Draco began to remove his own clothes slowly, peeling off layer after layer. Not for the first time, Harry decided that the other boy wore far too much under his robes, even if the damp cold of the dungeons permeated everything. He stood, and stalked over to his lover to assist with his disrobing. With Harry working on his clothes, Draco's hands were free to glide over golden skin, caressing, squeezing, grasping at firm muscles.

With a sharp intake of breath as Draco's hands wandered below his waist, Harry lifted the band of Draco's pants over his now full erection and let the final garment fall to the floor. Draco gave a sharp pull, and their bodies came together, need pressing against need, and their mouths crashed, tongues suddenly dueling for dominance, teeth clicking as they glanced each other, and hands beginning to move franticly.

A tangle of limbs, they somehow managed to cross the small space back to the bed without once losing their balance. Harry was sure he would have a light bruise on his leg from the bed as they crashed into it, not fully aware of their surroundings as they concentrated entirely on each other, and he did not care. His only concern was for the way Draco was sucking on his neck, and the shivers it sent down his spine and along his jaw. Harry wanted the feeling to last forever, even knowing it could not.

They scrambled onto the bed quickly, not wanting to lose contact, and Harry's light breeze picked up to a stiff wind. He stopped it altogether, not wanting to destroy his room, and knowing that it would be the last thing on his mind in the moments to come. All he could concentrate on was Draco; Draco's flesh, Draco's hands on his body, Draco's cock pressed against his leg, Draco's tongue circling his ear.

Tumbling together, Draco automatically moved to lie supine beneath Harry, but something in Harry made him urge Draco to move. Despite his sorting, there remained more than a little Gryffindor in Harry. He knew it was this tendency towards impulsive actions, sometimes foolhardy and reckless, existing in dichotomy to Harry's Slytherin cunning, that so fascinated Draco long before they were of age for a sexual relationship. It was that Gryffindorishness that inspired something similar to rise in Draco on occasion. It was that side of Harry that was rising just then, making a decision for him that he had considered abstractly before but never acted on.

Lying on his back, Harry cast a spell that he had not used for many months. Draco clearly recognized the incantation, but the sensation was not what he had felt before. It took him only a heartbeat before he realized what the difference was, and what it meant.

"You want me to . . ."

"I do."

Harry knew that over the past several months he had been using sex to release his anxieties, and that was not truly fair to Draco, nor was it the best practice to get accustomed to. That night, Harry felt more relaxed than he had since his name came out of that thrice-be-damned goblet, and he wanted to express his gratitude and devotion to Draco. He wanted to give Draco that final piece of himself that he had not yet shared.

Looking Draco straight in the eye, and lowering his voice just a bit, Harry said, "Please."

A moan, low and needy, rose out of Draco's throat, as the blonde allowed Harry to grasp him and guide him into position. Harry spread his legs far apart, thankful that he continued his morning yoga, making himself open wide for his lover. He placed Draco's head at his opening and released him, leaving the final, or first, step to Draco.

Grey met green, Draco's head dipped down and blond hair mixed with black on the bed as the paler boy slowly rolled his hips and pushed into Harry, biting his lower lip to keep some measure of control.

Soon they were moving frantically, hips crashing together and cries echoing off the stone walls of the room. Not for the first time, Harry was thankful for silencing charms, or the whole of Slytherin would be alerted to their continued relationship, destroying their months of deception.

Sweat was beading on Draco's skin, and Harry licked it off his neck, chest, and face, reveling in the salty taste of the glistening flesh.

"Harry, I can't . . ."

Almost there as well, Harry didn't bother to reply. Rather, he bit down on the junction of Draco's neck and shoulder, knowing what it would do to his lover. Draco nearly screamed his release and Harry, feeling the pulsations inside his body and the warmth flooding him, felt his muscles clench around Draco as he too yelled out, reaching the edge untouched.

"I love you," Harry whispered into Draco's ear as the blonde collapsed on top of him.

"Hmm," Draco hummed into his hair, limp and already half-asleep, "me too."

Summoning his wand from the nightstand, as Harry did not want either of them to move, he cast cleansing spells to remove the stickiness between them. Summoning the blankets and then sliding his wand under his pillow, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco. He drifted off to sleep content.

Late that night Harry woke, and could not fall back asleep. Draco had moved at some point, and was only partially draped across him. Making sure not to disturb him, Harry slid out of bed. He found a loose pair of pull-on pants, decorated with tiny, fluttering snitches, and stepped into them before swirling his invisibility cloak about his body.

He didn't know why the halls were calling to him that night. Perhaps it was because Umbridge was gone and he could wander without fear, or it might have been the full moon somehow getting into his blood and leaving him unable to sleep.

Whatever it was, it seemed he was not the only one.

"Ah, Harry, my boy, how fortunate."

Harry turned and saw the headmaster, not really surprised. After all, there were very few wizards who could detect someone despite an invisibility cloak, and fewer still who had access to Hogwarts after hours. He nodded silently, knowing the headmaster would see his acknowledgement.

"Come with me," Dumbledore said in his usual manner, cryptic and softly commanding. "There are a few new things I have to share with you."

Ensconced in one of the high winged back chairs by the cold fireplace in Dumbledore's office, Harry leaned back to sip his black tea and wash down the biscuit Dumbledore had provided. Without glancing towards the fireplace, he set flames crackling with barely a thought, but remained in control of them to retain their privacy from the floo system.

If Dumbledore was at all uneasy due to Harry's half-dressed state, he made no comment, and Harry was thankful. Thought the old wizard was accustomed to Harry's general disdain of clothing, it had been many years since he had witnessed such.

"So you need my help getting him to come back," Harry finished for the headmaster. "Why not ask my mother?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Lily was a favorite of his, but I wish for you to get acquainted with him."

"You want me to join that club of his," Harry sighed, seeing where this could be leading. "He has information we need, doesn't he?"

"And he has been stonewalling me," Dumbledore confessed, frowning slightly. "He is afraid, and rightly so."

Nodding, Harry followed the logic perfectly, "Riddle has one potions master already, but two would be safer. Hogwarts is the safest place . . . when do we go?"

"Tomorrow night," Dumbledore informed him, "after dinner. I believe he will not expect us to arrive unannounced. And then afterwards, we have another errand to run."

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A/N: There is a poll on my author's page concerning the identity of the new high inquisitor. Fudge is not about to loosen his grip on Hogwarts entirely, and not without a fight.

Please Review!

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	70. Chapter 70

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy**

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"Harry, when you and um, he, were, well, you know," Hermione leaned across the table, whispering softly so their conversation couldn't be overheard, "did you have to use protection?"

Harry gave the girl seated next to Neville an odd look, trying to figure out where she was going with her line of questioning. It had come out of nowhere, and he had an inkling of what she was asking, but wanted to make sure.

"The diseases in the muggle world don't really exist much here, Hermione," Harry explained softly, hoping this was all she wanted to know about. "The few wizards who do contract something through contact with muggles just get it fixed at St. Mungo's, so it doesn't spread far. Also, a few like my godfather excepted, wizards and witches tend to be far less promiscuous than muggles."

Hermione frowned, "That's good to know, I guess, but it's not what I meant." She leaned closer, the ends of her hair nearly falling into the gravy on her mashed potatoes, "What about . . . you know . . . pregnancy."

There was a spluttering sound, and Harry took out his wand to clean off his face. She _had_ to ask just after Neville had filled his mouth with pumpkin juice. Flanking him, the twins didn't bother cleaning off. They were too busy laughing hysterically over Hermione's question. Harry just groaned.

The noise of dinner continued all around them, even elevated a bit, as most students – out of a sense of self-preservation – tended to be wary of anything the twins found that funny.

"I just . . . I thought . . . well, with magic . . ." Hermione's cheeks were bright red with embarrassment, but she marshaled herself quickly. She snorted as she flicked her wand to clean off Fred and George, both of them still laughing, and darted an apologetic look at Neville. "Well, excuse me for not knowing everything about magic. I can't help it that I wasn't raised with it."

Taking pity on her affronted look, Harry decided to explain in as few words as possible, though if he was right she would demand a more detailed explanation eventually, "It's possible, but so exceedingly rare that it's not worth considering. The odds of it happening are so slim, and there are so many conditions that need to be aligned perfectly right, that no one expects to see it in their lifetime. The last one was, what, about six hundred years ago?"

"Yeah, Harry," Neville nodded, regaining his composure. If possible, his cheeks had flamed brighter than Hermione's, "the Newcombe family, and they still died out a few hundred years later."

"So it is possible," Hermione looked redeemed, and she returned to her food.

"Could you just see Harry . . ."

". . . all bloated up . . ."

"Knock it off," Harry jabbed the redheads on either side of him, one with each elbow. He gave Hermione a dirty look, knowing that the twins would find some way to continue teasing him. Worse, they would have to do it in Snape's quarters only, to minimize exposing Harry and Draco's relationship, which meant Draco was going to get pulled into it as well.

He had far more important things to worry about, but made a mental note to warn Draco of the impending torment that was coming his way. Luckily, Draco could give as good as he got when it came to the Weasley twins.

"I have a lot to work on," Harry announced as an alibi, "I better head out."

"Need any company?" Hermione perked up, always up for a trip to the library.

Expecting it, Harry just shook his head, "Nah, I'll be working in my room all night. All my books are there, and I like the quiet."

Deflating, and probably thinking her questioning had something to do with Harry's desire for solitude, Hermione nodded and frowned, reaching for a piece of fruit for her dessert. Harry snagged a few brownies off the table and left the hall, munching as he went. Once he was alone, no one else's body heat anywhere near, he ducked into an alcove. Slipping his bag off his shoulder, he set it down and pulled off his school robes.

Harry had listened to his parents well when they spoke of their Hogwarts days, and their stories could not have been more different. Harry's father talked of pranks and jokes, of triumph on the quidditch field and in the transfiguration classroom, of full moon jaunts in the forbidden forest running alongside a werewolf in his stag form. His mother, on the other hand, talked of success with tricky spells and potions, of the friends she made, of the wonders of entering the wizarding world from the muggle world, and of the teachers she most admired, and who stood out for some reason or another.

From those stories, Harry knew that the man he was about to visit did not form opinions based solely on appearances, but that flaunting his wealth and heritage would make a positive impression. The man was a true Slytherin, but not in the way the public tended to picture all Slytherins. He was cunning and ambitious, yet without a taste for the darker aspects of magic. His primary goal was his own personal comfort and subtle influence in almost every area of their world, not increasing his individual magical or political power.

With all this in mind, Harry dressed in his best robes, banishing his school uniform and bag back to his wardrobe. He swirled his invisibility cloak about himself and doubled back along his earlier path.

In the entrance hall, Dumbledore stood just inside one of the massive oak castle doors, half ajar, whistling softly as he looked out into the night.

"A beautiful evening for a stroll," the wizened wizard spoke softly, as if to himself, but really signaling that he noted Harry's presence. Whether the older man could see through the cloak itself or if he had some other way of detecting Harry's presence, Harry didn't know. He was curious of course, but there were far more pressing matters to which he needed to attend.

They walked outside and the castle's doors shut behind them with an ominous thud. Knowing no one but Dumbledore could see, Harry glanced back just for a moment. He had not been outside the safety of the wards, either at Hogwarts or home, with only one other wizard accompanying him, for quite some time, and he was well aware of the potential dangers. But this trip was unplanned and unannounced. With luck, no one would even notice they were gone. Harry had informed Professor Snape early that morning, knowing that Dumbledore wouldn't think of having someone waiting and aware of their destination and expected time of return in case something happened to them. While the old headmaster was a master planner, he tended towards overconfidence in his own abilities.

Halfway between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, not visible from even the tallest turrets of the castle, nor from any part of the village, they paused and Harry removed his cloak.

Dumbledore looked over Harry's change in clothes and solemnly nodded his approval, "Keep on your cloak until I inform you otherwise. His house may be watched." Harry obeyed, ducking back under the safety of invisibility. "I will side-along you, if you have no objections."

Rather than voicing an answer, Harry rested a hand on Dumbledore's arm. The more he apparated, the less disconcerting the sensation became. Having experienced side-along apparition with his parents for years, the feeling of being squeezed like toothpaste out of the tube was now no more than a slightly unpleasant tightness, almost like one of Hagrid's more exuberant hugs.

The landing was soft, much better than any trip out of the floo system for Harry, and he looked around to get his bearings. They were standing on a flagstone path that led to a modest, but somehow opulent cottage, clearly magical. Neville would drool at the sight of the landscaping alone. Mixed together were magical plants used in potions, decorative flora, and muggle herbs and flowers. There must have been some impressive wards and charms cast on the property for the garden to be in full bloom in the middle of winter.

Dumbledore strode forward, and Harry, remembering that his presence needed to be concealed for a little longer, trotted along behind him, doing his best to remain silent. A wrinkled hand gave a smart rap on the door, ignoring the highly ornate knocker.

The door swung open of its own accord, no one behind it, and a voice demanded, "Declare yourself!"

"Really, Horace," Dumbledore smiled in his grandfatherly way, "is this truly necessary?"

A portly man came into view, wand extended towards them, "The answer is still no, Albus. I remember nothing of those times that can help you."

Dumbledore, not bothering to even touch his wand, simply waved a hand in the sir as though dispelling smoke, "Can't an old friend stop by for a drink without ulterior motives?"

Slughorn scowled but stepped back and lowered his wand, "Not if the old friend is you, Albus."

Still smiling, Dumbledore stepped into the house, and Harry darted in, barely keeping his cloak from being caught as the front door shut swiftly, several locks clicking and sliding into place.

"We merely wished to speak with you for a moment."

"We?" Slughorn's eyes narrowed as he tried to detect whatever sort of concealment was being used.

Harry figured that was his cue, and swept off his cloak, "My mother sends her regards, sir. She speaks of you fondly when we discuss her time at Hogwarts."

The changes on the man's face were so rapid they were almost impossible to follow. Recognition was instantaneous, his focus at first narrowing in on Harry's eyes rather than the infamous scar, alongside a soft fondness when Harry mentioned his mother. There was also a hint of greed combined with fear as the man's eyes darted to his curtained windows and back to Harry's scar. Here was a man who certainly did not believe what _The Prophet_ was printing about Voldemort.

"Lily was a favorite of mine, though a teacher shouldn't really have favorites, such a talented girl." Slughorn took the safe route in the conversation. His gaze drifted to shelves that held picture after picture, all of prominent witches and wizards standing with Slughorn. Harry instantly picked out the picture that Slughorn was looking at, one of his mother standing over a cauldron and grinning in triumph. "Such a shame. She could have done great things."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Depending on your definition of great, she has."

Catching himself, Slughorn turned back to Harry, clearly having forgotten for a moment who he was speaking to, "Of course, of course, my boy. I merely meant that her talent for potions was so promising, and she chose not to pursue her mastery. She did not, by chance, pass along that talent to you?"

"Unfortunately no," Harry smiled affably, knowing he was supposed to win this man over, "but my younger brother shows quite a bit promise there, and my sister has her affinity for charms. Nearly all of us have our father's talent on a broom, but my true strength lies in dueling."

"Yes, yes," Slughorn looked Harry up and down, taking in the fine robes, confident posture, and small stature. Harry held up under the evaluation, allowing the man to see that he knew exactly what was going on. "I can see why your parents would have encouraged that particular branch of magic in you. Tell me, why does your mother send her regards after such a long absence?"

Dumbledore chose that moment to remind Slughorn of his presence, and answered the somewhat awkward question. "Lily felt that a man of your . . . influence might be tempted by Harry's position in society. She wanted to wait and introduce you once Harry was a bit older."

_Or,_ Harry thought,_ to put it more bluntly, Mum didn't trust you not to exploit me for all you could. With my name equivalent to 'mud' there's not so much to gain from an association . . . at the moment, anyway._

Having the grace to look a bit ashamed of the rather accurate assessment of his character, Slughorn mumbled something unintelligible, then spoke up, "Come, come, where are my manners? Sit down, have a drink. I have some fine elf-made wine."

He led them into his parlor, and they sat in some chintz armchairs, a bit overstuffed, much like their owner. Slughorn poured the wine into fine crystal glasses, and handed them to his guests, taking a generous helping for himself. There were chocolates on the table in front of him, along with a variety of candied fruits. Harry chose a piece of ginger, savoring the bite in his throat that combined so nicely with the tang of the wine, which he sipped cautiously. Only having had alcohol before on special occasions, Harry did not know precisely what the effects would be and wanted to make sure his judgment and reflexes were not impeded in any way.

"Due to your greeting, Horace, I see that you are concerned for your safety," Dumbledore began to bait the hook. "Tell me, have you had unwanted visitors of late?"

Slughorn waved his hand as if batting away a persistent fly, "I expect they'll come after me any time now. I do not intend to stay in residence much longer – moving around will be much safer. I can always find a place where the muggles are gone on vacation. Tell me, Harry, are there many promising students at Hogwarts these days?"

"Certainly, sir," Harry leaned back gracefully and slowly crossed his legs. He ignored the change of topic and offered his own bait. "The Weasley twins are likely to rival Zonko after they graduate this year and set up shop – together they are geniuses with combining potions, charms, and transfigurations. Then there is Hermione Granger, in my year, who earns top marks in nearly every subject."

"Granger . . . Granger . . ." Slughorn patted his rotund belly as he mulled over the name, trying to place it. "Muggleborn?"

"Mm, hm," Harry confirmed almost absent-mindedly. He then decided to drop a few prominent names, reminding Slughorn that the children of several powerful families were all Hogwarts aged. "Neville Longbottom is a natural in Herbology, and Draco Malfoy has the makings of a Potions Master. Blaise Zabini is quite skilled with transfiguration, and I believe the MacLaggen heir has political aspirations."

"Horace," Dumbledore leaned forward ever so slightly, making the contrast between his urgent posture and Harry's comfortable recline more marked, "if it is safety you desire, Hogwarts is the place for you."

Slughorn gave Dumbledore a confused look for a moment. "Nonsense, Albus. I refuse to sit around that castle like an old woman. I'm retired, but I'm not senile or lame."

"I wish for you to come out of retirement . . . temporarily," Dumbledore sipped his wine and reached for a cracker with some fresh farm cheese.

Looking back and forth between Dumbledore and Harry, Slughorn dawned on the situation, "What happened to Snape?"

"Hopefully, Severus will be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts for the remainder of the term," Dumbledore said softly, dangling another piece of bait. "I can offer you a bit of a raise as well. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?"

"Straight down the hall and to the left," Slughorn said as he motioned somewhat absent-mindedly. He picked up a piece of what looked like candied pineapple and began chewing, his eyes distant.

Harry sat back and waited for the man to speak. He was combining his mother's old stories of Slughorn with his own appraisal of the man. He was fairly certain that Slughorn would take Dumbledore's offer; the man obviously relished his comforts, and being on the run was not conducive to a luxurious lifestyle. He would also have to cut off contact with all his connections – no more free Harpies tickets or inside Gringotts information that way.

As if just remembering that Harry was also in the room, Slughorn spoke up again, "So tell me, Harry, your mother, she is truly well?"

Seeing that the man was actually concerned, Harry smiled softly and replied, "Mostly, sir. Having the twins was rough, and the healers had to ensure that she wouldn't conceive again. She's still inventing charms, though, and four of my siblings are still at home. I'm sure she would be pleased to hear from you."

Slughorn nodded, a distant look on his face, which remained until Dumbledore returned from the loo.

"Well, I know a lost cause when I see one," Dumbledore sighed, almost dramatically, Harry thought. "Come along, Harry, we have much to do."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered as he stood. "It was nice to finally meet you." He decided to fully play his part with a parting remark. "It is a shame we will not get to know one another better."

The two wizards, young and old, walked out the door, when they heard from behind them, "Alright, I'll do it."

Dumbledore only half turned. "Very well, then. I'll send some elves along and we'll see you for breakfast on Monday."

Harry fought back a snicker of appreciation for Dumbledore's machinations. It really was quite amusing to watch him manipulate people – so long as Harry wasn't the one being manipulated.

"Take my arm again, Harry, and prepare yourself."

"Sir?"

"You'll recognize where we're going, I dare say, and I do not think you'll like it."

Once more Harry was squeezed into the void of apparition. He tried to brace himself for an unpleasant sight, knowing of only a few places that would qualify.

Seeing the Riddle mansion looming on the horizon certainly was not welcome. Harry felt his stomach clench at the sight, and could not stop himself from looking behind him to spot the graveyard where Peter performed the resurrection ritual . . . but Dumbledore was already moving, and Harry had to jog quickly to catch up.

They turned away from the Riddle mansion and started along a hedgerow, which opened up, and soon the cottage was before them, the cottage that Harry saw in Bob Ogden's memory. It looked even more decrepit, the windows broken, the door cracked, but the skeleton of the snake was still nailed there, and the whole place made his skin crawl.

"Stop here, Harry," Dumbledore said as he took a step forward, his wand raised. The old wizard mumbled a few words as he swept his wand, and Harry recognized the detection spells. He held his own wand ready as he watched Dumbledore take down the wards around the house, fairly simple ones, as if not to draw too much attention. They could have been left by the former occupants.

"You think one is here, sir, don't you?"

"Yes, Harry, I do. Come with me."

Focusing on the snake, Harry hissed a few revealing spells in Parseltongue, testing for any enchantments or traps that might be hidden to those who could not speak the language, and luckily came up empty. Dumbledore glanced back at him with a grim nod, approving of the precaution.

Inside, the only thing that had changed much from Ogden's memory was the thick layer of dust that coated every surface, and the cobwebs that hung in the corners and draped the furniture in a sort of fraying lace. Dumbledore swept his wand, preserving the mess, protecting it from their footprints and any other disturbance they might create in their search.

"Do not touch anything, Harry," Dumbledore warned him. "Somewhere in this hovel is a piece of very dark magic, and it will be protected fiercely."

Wondering exactly how they would search without touching anything, and knowing that casting too many spells would probably set off whatever protections Voldemort left behind, Harry mused aloud, "Then how . . ."

"Magic always leaves a trace, Harry." Harry nodded, recalling this from Remus's early lessons on the theories behind magic itself. "Dark magic, in particular, leaves a distinct feeling behind, and I have encountered quite a bit of Tom's magic in the past."

This made sense, and Harry raised his Occlumency barriers as high as they could go, locking his mind up tight, before concentrating on Riddle. He recalled the graveyard, and the Cruciatus Curse. He felt the hatred that Riddle poured into the spell, and tried to feel for Riddle himself in the magic . . . he felt himself pulled.

Opening his eyes, and not remembering when he had closed them, Harry noticed that he and Dumbledore were moving in the same direction, both of them towards the grimy iron stove, the one that Merope slaved over. Dumbledore held out his wand and cast a single spell, causing the stove to glow with a sickly orangey-green cast. He reached out, despite his admonishment to Harry not to touch anything, and opened the oven door.

There, inside, was the clumsy gold ring with the heavy black stone. Harry knew that if he looked closely he would see the Peverell coat of arms etched into the metal beneath the stone, making it almost look as though it was floating within the stone itself. He knew that coat of arms, as the Potters were also descended from the Peverells, a fact that irritated Harry, though he knew that all purebloods were related in some way.

Harry stepped to the side to get a clear view, and was thankful he did so. Dumbledore was staring at the ring, as if enchanted. He bent to pick it up, and almost had it placed on his finger.

Almost without thought, Harry had the ring encased in ice, and his wand in his hand. He cast quickly, and silently, _Expelliarmus_, and Dumbledore's wand flew to Harry's outstretched hand. He commanded his ice, and it floated through the air to join Dumbledore's wand.

"I don't think you are fully in control of yourself, sir." There was only a slight waver in his voice, as the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins. Part of him was screaming in denial, unbelieving that he just disarmed the headmaster, taken his wand away, and yet another was frantically trying to figure out what to do next.

Luck was with him, as Dumbledore seemed to deflate, the intense stare gone.

"I am truly sorry, my boy." Dumbledore looked ashamed, as though he had broken Harry's trust, though it was Harry who had raised his wand against the older wizard.

Harry nodded, and handed back the wand, though he kept the stone encased, "I think the enchantments are not fully dispelled. What destroys Horcruxes?"

"Basilisk venom, fiendfyre," Dumbledore recited, looking at his wand, still not back to his normal, jovial self. "I had intended to use Godric's blade, as you so conveniently returned it to me coated in venom."

"Do you think my fire would work?" Harry knew he could make fire hotter than fiendfyre if he concentrated.

Dumbledore, looking as though he aged considerably in just a few moments, gave Harry a wan smile, "Yes, I think it might."

"Then we'll do it here, sir," Harry declared, a little uneasy. It felt like the balance of power had shifted.

"I will levitate the ring for you, so you can concentrate," Dumbledore said as he gripped his wand firmly.

Harry thought the headmaster was reluctant, but did not know why, and it was not the time to ask.

"Is there a particular part of the ring I should focus on?" Harry asked, knowing that the smaller the area he was working with, the easier his task would be.

"The stone."

Dumbledore's voice wavered ever so slightly, but Harry picked it up and looked enquiringly at his sometimes surrogate grandfather. It could not just be there minor altercation that had him so disturbed. They stared at each other for a few moments, before Dumbledore lowered his eyes and shook his head.

"Ask me another time, Harry. I owe you this much."

Harry nodded, and bit his lip. The ring hovered before him and he narrowed all his thoughts on that black stone, the room around him fading into nonexistence. Never before had he used his elemental power to destroy like this, but it was to do this that he had trained. He knew the heat was rising, and little flames began to flicker around the stone. It rattled in its setting, and Harry heard a hissing sound that he knew was Parseltongue. The voice was making promises, enticing him, but Harry grit his teeth, clenched his jaw, and ignored it, knowing the promises for the empty words of a madman that they were.

It was sudden. The stone cracked down the middle, and a black mist rose from the crack. It came towards Harry, but he expanded his flames to encompass the mist, and it screamed as it soared upwards, and out of sight.

Shaking, the Horcrux destroyed, Harry looked to Dumbledore, who was now smiling again, his gaze full of pride.

"Power he knows not, indeed, Harry," Dumbledore whispered, yet his voice still carried in the small room. "I am thankful you are with me."

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A/N: The poll is still running, and the votes are close. The new High Inquisitor will be revealed soon.

Please Review!

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	71. Chapter 71

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-One**

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Albus Dumbledore was not a man that was surprised easily, nor he was easily caught off guard or unsettled, yet at that moment in the Gaunt hovel Harry Potter had been the cause of all those. Despite striving for the joining of all three Deathly Hallows in his youth, so many years ago, Albus did not truly expect to ever see it happen. Then when he did witness their joining, it was only for a moment, and the possessor had no idea of just what he had done.

In his private rooms, away from the comments of meddling former headmasters, he stared down at his wand as he leaned back in his favorite plush wingback chair, feet propped up on overstuffed ottoman, fire roaring in front of him. This was not his original wand. That wand, quite possibly the one that fired the curse that killed Ariana, was locked away in its original box, in a warded trunk, in the closet of the room his brother kept for him at the Hog's Head. He was almost never there, as he and Abe did not really speak much, but they were still brothers.

This wand . . . . this was the wand he won off of Gellert, before the man his friend had become was locked away in his own prison for the remainder of his life . . . . the Elder Wand. It was no longer his.

Albus could still use the wand, and he did, but its allegiance had already shifted to the fifteen-year-old boy that disarmed him just a little more than twenty-four hours previously, quite possibly saving his life in the process. He could still use the wand. It still was an acceptable channel for his considerable power; but he could not longer rely on the wand's power itself to protect him if he had to face Voldemort again. Albus knew that Tom was stronger than him. The dark wizard was younger and had subjected himself to terrible rituals designed to increase his power. The next time they faced each other could very well be the last.

The old wizard who shifted to relieve the uncomfortable pressure on his posterior was well aware that he was not to be trusted with power, yet he had almost succumbed to its allure once more. He so desperately wanted to see Ariana, to be absolved of guilt in her death, that he ignored all danger when the power to do so presented itself.

Some of the protections on that ring could have killed him . . . slowly. If Harry had not acted when he had, Albus would now be making plans for his imminent death, if he had survived long enough to do so. Leaving Harry, and Hogwarts, at this stage could have been disastrous, and the only one to blame then would have been Albus. The thought of suffering through the flesh-withering curse, waiting as his body slowly ate away at itself, leaching away his power until he was a withered black mass of pain was unthinkable.

Harry Potter had prevailed again, acting swiftly, on instinct, averting a crisis he did not fully know was looming. It seemed to be the boy's lot in life to save the lives of everyone around him, even when he was unaware he was doing so.

Selfless, not realizing what he was giving away, Harry had handed the ring to Albus once the curses were removed and the Horcrux destroyed.

And now he could not use it.

The Hallow remained intact, the Resurrection Stone that possessed the ability to bring the dead back – in some form – was not destroyed when Harry removed the sliver of Tom's soul. Yet Albus could not bring himself to call upon its power, to seek the answer to the one question that had been haunting him his entire adult life. He no longer felt worthy of discovering the answer – not by causing further torment to his tortured sister. She had suffered enough in life without being called back from death to suffer more in the afterlife.

No, Albus could only think of one person worthy enough to wield the stone. He could only think of one person that deserved to speak with Ariana.

Albus Dumbledore felt every one of his one hundred-fifteen years as he lowered his legs from the ottoman and stood from his chair, joints creaking and groaning with each movement. He really was too old to be apparating all over the country, seeking out old memories and hunting enchanted dark objects, but he knew he could not trust the job to anyone else. Possibly as Harry got a little older . . . . but Albus put off that thought for another time. He was only procrastinating.

The floo powder was in an ornate jar on the mantle, and he scooped out a small handful, knelt on a cushion that rested on the hearth just for this purpose, and tossed it in the fire before he could delay any further. He stuck his head in the flames and called out, "Aberforth Dumbledore."

Separated from his aching body for a few moments, his head spun through the network until the private quarters of his brother, with the portrait of Ariana above the bed, came into view.

A gruff snort greeted him, followed by a harsh, "What do you want now?"

"I wish to speak with you, Abe." Albus forced himself to say. Those who lauded him as a master of manipulation, as a visionary, would be shocked to see him cowed by his younger, less educated, slightly criminal brother. Nearly one hundred years after the act, Aberforth still placed the sole blame for Ariana's death squarely on Albus's shoulders, and Albus could not refute this, nor had he ever desired to do so, as he also blamed himself.

"Well, speak then. I haven't got all night."

Albus refrained from sighing, "Neither of us can kneel before the fire for long at our age. Either invite me through, or come to me."

"Get in," Aberforth grumbled as he rose and stepped back.

There was no hug, no smiled greeting. If not for the identical eyes, and the same shaped jaw beneath their thick beards, none would recognize them for brothers. That benefited them both, as many patrons of the Hog's Head would not be overly fond of dealing with Albus Dumbledore's kin.

"What is you want, and be quick about it," Aberforth snapped at him.

Albus bit back his instinctual reply, what he would say to any other man who spoke to him that way. He had a way of making nearly any wizard alive feel like a first year caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar, but it would not work with Abe, nor did he want it to.

"I have recently stumbled across an artifact that might be of interest of you," Albus said, attempting to set the stage before revealing his purpose. "I can only lend it to you for a short time, as I must return it to its rightful owner."

"Stop being so mysterious, Albus, and just show me the damned thing."

Albus removed the ring from his pocket and held out his hand, palm up, ring resting in the center. Aberforth leaned in and adjusted his glasses for a better look, before jerking back swiftly in shock.

"Is that . . . ?"

"It is."

"After all this time . . . ." Abe's anger was building, not that Albus blamed him.

Albus held up a hand, "I abandoned that quest the day Ariana died. It was pure chance that the cursed object I was searching for was this ring, yet of course I recognized it right away."

"The Peverell coat of arms," Aberforth said softly, nodding his head. "_He_ came to Godric's Hollow because he thought they were the three brothers of legend."

"And he was right," Albus said sadly, seeing in hindsight exactly where each of the Hallows was when he and Gellert began their quest. Gellert told him, the one time Albus visited him in prison, that he had taken the wand from Gregorovitch, a thief in the night. The Gaunts, in their hovel, unknowingly passed the ring from father to son and the Potters likely used the cloak for mischief in Hogwarts generation after generation; both families were descended from the Peverells.

"Use it yet?" Aberforth sneered at his older brother.

Albus shook his head, "No. I almost sacrificed my life and our world in my eagerness for that very thing, but Harry stopped me, knowing only that I was about to put a cursed ring on my hand. With the curses Tom left on it . . . . I would be dying now if not for Harry."

Aberforth's crystalline blue eyes pierced his brother, and Albus reflected that many of his students and fellow wizards and witches could not truly appreciate the power of his eyes until they had fallen under the judging gaze of this matching pair.

"So why haven't ye'?"

It was time, Albus knew, to bear his soul to the one person who deserved it, "Every day for nearly one hundred years I have wanted to know, who fired the curse that killed her? I could find out now, if she knows who it was, but I will not force her back from her peace for my own gain."

Aerforth snorted, "Always the martyr, Albus. I would have taken care of her. You could have gone off on your quest and conquered the world with that . . . . that . . . ." Albus steeled himself for whatever was to come, wondering if all this time Abe had known the truth of his relationship with Gellert. "Your best friend became a killer, and the seeds were already there. You just never saw him for what he was!"

"And I regret it to this day," Albus met his brother's eyes, searching, and saw that, no, his brother never knew, likely never suspected.

He wondered if Abe ever questioned why Albus never married. Aberforth had almost married once, but his lover died in an animagus transformation attempt gone wrong. Abe had been helping her, quite illegally, and had been charged with negligence in her death. Not yet Chief Warlock, but still carrying significant influence within the Wizengamot, Albus had the charges reduced, and Abe was merely fined for Inappropriate Charms on a Goat, the animagus form of his lover, rather than imprisoned. So far as Albus knew, there had never been a serious interest after Deirdre, the woman who would have been his sister-in-law.

It appeared the Dumbledore brothers were alike in that way – love only had one chance with them.

"You couldn't care less for her." Abe was getting going once more, his beard quivering, and Albus knew he was due for a near play-by-play lecture if he did not stop this. Maybe he should not have just taken this all these years, maybe he should have told Abe the truth from the beginning, but he had been too ashamed, and too afraid. The world then was not nearly as accepting as it eventually became. "All you cared for were those damned Hallows and your plan to rule the world!"

"I never wanted to rule the world!" Albus bit back, raising his voice for the first time to his brother since the day Ariana died. Abeforth stopped mid-rant, looking terribly confused, and Albus sighed. "Gellert wanted that, yes. I knew, but I ignored his views on muggles, ignored his violent plans. I only wanted to separate our worlds further, to ensure that no more children ever suffered what Ariana had. I see now that understanding is the way – that separation is impossible. So long as there are muggle-borns, muggles will know of us."

Aberforth was frowning at him, still missing something, "You could have done that without him. How could you have known what he planned to do, yet still . . . . ?"

Albus crossed the room and sat on his brother's bed. He had never voiced the truth, not to anyone. Only one man knew, and it appeared he had never spoken of it either.

"I was blinded, Abe, blinded by love."

He looked up and saw that his brother's jaw had dropped wide open. "You . . . . you're . . . ."

Albus nodded, unashamed. No one cared all that much anymore who slept with whom, so long as magical children continued to be conceived and brought into their world. Back then, though, it was illegal, and punishable by a hefty fine and short stint in Azkaban. If they had been caught, Albus might have seen his father again, and Headmaster Dippet never would have hired him. That was one of many parts of his life that brought him to admire muggles, to know them better than most purebloods. After Gellert, it was only in the muggle world that Albus could fully be himself.

"I had never met anyone like Gellert, his passion, his intellect, and yes, his looks." Albus felt himself smiling just a bit in remembrance. "From the moment I met him, I could deny him nothing. To this day, no one has ever compared. Poor Bathilda," Albus chuckled, somewhat bitter now in hindsight, "she had no idea what we got up to." He looked up and saw his brother still gaping at him, stunned to have been so oblivious to so major an event in Albus's life. "You opened my eyes. It is to my eternal shame and horror that it took the events of that day for me to see that I had ignored Gellert's faults, making him into a man that did not truly exist."

Aberforth was quiet at this revelation. He had never fully understood what had happened to his brother that summer, but looking at it through new eyes, seeing that Albus was under the influence of the first waves of new love, he began to feel for the first time that Albus was not fully at fault for their sister's death.

"Albus, I don't . . . ."

"It is all in the past, Abe." Albus smiled at his brother sadly. He handed him the ring, and stood to leave. "Here, use it in your own time, or not, but please return it soon. I have a feeling that Harry will need it before the end, and when that will be . . . ."

He left his sentence hanging, as Albus had no idea of how long this war would stretch on. They were close to finding and eliminating the horcruxes, yes, but if Tom found out, he might discover a way to make more, or Merlin forbid find another method to preserve his life. Harry would also need to locate Tom, and if the self-proclaimed Dark Lord knew he was mortal once more, he would not knowingly allow Harry within ten kilometers.

There were far too many variables to make any sort of reliable prediction, though Albus knew if he actually wanted one he could always call on Sybil. With a little chuckle to himself, he used his brother's fireplace to return to his office.

It was nearly dawn, far too late to get any sleep, far too early to make his way to breakfast, so Albus determined he would go for a walk around the castle. This was one of his many methods for keeping himself attuned with the goings-on in his school. As he descended his staircase, he concentrated on the spell that rendered him invisible, and stepped into the halls.

Very few students were in the halls, making overhearing conversations more difficult than usual, but there were the portraits and house-elves to speak with. It was amazing what students talked about in hearing range of portraits, thinking no one could eavesdrop. With little else to do, the portraits eagerly gathered up every piece of gossip they could, and relayed it all to Albus gleefully.

"Most of the students support Potter now, though some still think he's delusional," one such portrait informed Albus. This portrait was alone in his frame, a rotund man with a ridiculously large moustache, sitting on an ornate little bench that looked as though it would collapse under his weight at any moment. "More of them want to join that little defense club of his, but they have to make it past the Granger girl first." The portrait scratched his head. "Don't know if Potter knows about that. He doesn't seem the type to use blatant intimidation, not Slytherin enough."

"Thank you, Enrique." Albus nodded his politely as he faded from sight again and moved on his way.

Hearing voices coming, he stepped into an alcove. Invisibility aside, Albus still had mass, which meant that students could bump into him.

"Come along, Nev," one of the Weasley twins urged.

The other appeared around the corner, eyes glued to an old piece of parchment, "I could have sworn . . . ."

"What?"

"Eh, nothing."

Albus smirked in his hiding spot. He was certainly thankful that the twins had relinquished that wonderful map of theirs for a short time while Remus was teaching. It had given Albus a chance to experiment, and now he could ensure his name did not appear when he chose to be invisible in the school.

"Did Severus help you with your new formula?"

Proud as he was of his near immunity to shock, Albus almost gave his location away in his surprise. He knew that Severus had been entertaining these particular Gryffindors on occasion, but Albus had thought it was only due to pleading, bribery, or blackmail on Harry's part. Severus actually helping the Weasley twins with their pranks was more than Albus had ever expected to see in his lifetime. Never, when the sorting hat put Harry in Slytherin, did he expect Harry to have such a positive influence on the man Albus loved like a son.

He paid close attention, desiring more information. Perhaps he could use this himself the next time he wanted to get a rise out of Severus.

"Yeah, never thought powdered vervain was what we needed, but that wasn't what we were doing in the lab."

The twin with the map looked back at his fellow Gryffindors. "We might have come up with a safer potion for destroying the _you-know-whats_ so we don't have to use the venom or fire."

Albus blinked, his shock this time around not even registering. While he had not told Harry to keep the existence of the horcruxes a secret, he had expected that the young Slytherin understood the sensitive nature of the information. It appeared, though, that he was limiting the dispersal of certain facts to a select few. Albus had not intended for Severus to know, as the knowledge could put him in even greater danger with Tom, but a small part was comforted that Harry had such a skilled support group in this matter.

"Really?" Neville Longbottom looked impressed, and certainly with reason. Albus only knew of two – now three ways to destroy horcruxes. He wondered if Harry told the group that his elemental fire worked as well as basilisk venom and fiendfyre. Perhaps he wanted them able to destroy the cursed objects if he was unavailable.

One of the Weasley twins nodded. "The ingredients are a right bitch to get a hold of, but the potion itself is pretty simple."

He continued to describe Severus' latest marvel with his cauldrons – apparently with the assistance of the two redheaded pranksters – as they turned a corner and disappeared from sight and hearing. Albus considered following them, but decided he would rather freshen up a bit before breakfast. Cleaning charms were all fine and good, but nothing compared to a soak in a large steaming bath.

Dressed in his latest acquisition, a fine set of turquoise robes with miniscule purple cauldrons that emitted puffs of smoke varying in color, and more relaxed than he had been since before the World Quidditch Cup, Albus cheerfully made his way to breakfast in the great hall. He had fully enjoyed his bath and seen to some of his copious paperwork.

Once more, he pondered the enigma that was Draco Malfoy. Something had prompted that boy to rid the school of Delores Umbridge, and he had done so with flair. The boy was no novice when it came to politics and masks – his father had made sure of that – but which was the mask and which was the true Draco? Albus did not know, and would not without a serious invasion of the boy's privacy.

As Severus was likely teaching young Malfoy Occlumency, there was the additional risk of detection in the use of Legilimency to find his answers. For now, Albus determined to trust Harry's judgment in the matter, well aware that the two boys rarely slept apart.

The mood in the great hall was much lighter than it had been in many months. Delores's presence had brought with it an oppressive air that even the humorous antics of the Weasley twins failed to dispel. Albus settled into his chair, remarking to himself happily that his robes had the expected effect of making Severus cringe.

Digging into his breakfast with relish, Albus pondered the day ahead of him. It was Sunday, and as such there were few scheduled responsibilities. Occasionally, Albus attended the nondenominational service held for those students who chose to attend, but he felt he would skip that this morning. There were some more memories of Tom's school days and the time just after that which Albus needed to track down, and it was unlikely that anyone would notice his absence from the school. He would have to see if James could get him a visit to Azkaban unobtrusively. It would not do for Cornelius to take an interest in his business there.

As if thought alone of the Minister conjured up ill portents, the doors to the great hall slammed opened, making several students jump in their seats. Very few of them recognized the man standing in the entrance way, a smug look on his lean face, but the few who did instantly discerned his purpose.

He strode up to the head table with confidence, a roll of parchment secured with the official seal of the Minister of Magic in his left hand. He walked as though he had authority over everyone in the room, and if the parchment read as Albus predicted it would, he likely did.

"Headmaster," the man inclined his head a fraction of an inch in the barest of polite nods as he addressed Albus, "I am here from the Ministry to assume the positions of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and High Inquisitor."

Whispers immediately erupted throughout the hall. Sunday breakfast was suddenly much more interesting than usual.

"That will be quite unnecessary," Albus smiled genially down at his former student, "as the post of Defense Against the Darks Arts has already been filled."

The whispers increased in volume and the man's countenance lost just a bit of its self-importance. He recovered however, and frowned, speaking harshly, "Now look here, the Minister himself has appointed me –"

Albus took great joy in cutting him off, still quite calm and affable, knowing how incensed he could make people by failing to react how they wanted, "The Minister may appoint staff members here, true, but only if I am unable to secure them myself. As all my teaching positions are filled, I am afraid there are no openings for you. Of course, you may represent the Minister as High Inquisitor. I believe you can find lodgings in Hogsmeade if you need to be close to the school. You see, the bylaws of Hogwarts forbid adults apart from the teaching and support staff, such as caretaker and groundskeeper, from living in the castle proper or on the grounds."

"As High Inquisitor –"

"My dear fellow, that is a Ministry position. Now, you are welcome to stay for breakfast if you wish, and I am sure we can scrounge up an office for you somewhere, though the house elves will of course have to air out the room and locate appropriate furniture. You know the way to the kitchens, I presume?"

The young man spluttered a bit, before regrouping and spinning around, cloak flapping as he left the great hall in a huff.

Less relaxed than he was before, Albus immediately began altering his plans for the day. It appeared he would have to stay in the school after all.

"That is going to come back and bite you," Minerva remarked casually, seated on his right.

Severus snorted.

"All the better, my dear, all the better."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at him, and Albus smiled.

"Cornelius is digging himself quite a hole, isn't he, Severus?"

There was another snort, and a quick glare at some students whose gossiping had risen in pitch. "That he is, Albus. Have you a ladder ready?"

"We shall see."

Minerva shook her head, her dislike for politics well known among the staff. "You should have been sorted into Slytherin, Albus."

"No," Albus reflected on his discussion with his brother the night before, and his own revelations after the incident at the Gaunt hovel, "I do not think that would have been a wise decision on the part of the hat."

Offering no further explanation, Albus rose from his seat, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, and set off for his office. He had to speak with the Head Elf about finding some suitably out-of-the-way and cramped office for the new High Inquisitor. He smirked to himself and allowed a small chuckle to escape. The man had not even inquired as to who was filling the vacant teaching position.

Monday would be interesting, indeed.

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A/N: The poll is still running, and the votes are close. The new High Inquisitor will be revealed soon. The poll will remain up for two more weeks.

Please Review!

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	72. Chapter 72

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-Two**

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He really hated Valentine's Day.

It wasn't just that the girl he sometimes thought he was in love with and sometimes wanted to strangle out of pure frustration was head-over-heels for a certain red-headed idiot. It wasn't that his blood brother had gotten cornered into going on a date with a girl that he had absolutely no interest in while his boyfriend tried to seem totally uninterested in the whole debacle.

No, it was that organized holidays had a tendency to turn completely miserable for one Neville Longbottom.

Take Mother's Day, for example. Now, Neville got along relatively well with his parents. Like many pureblood children he was essentially raised by house-elves while his parents enjoyed their own pursuits. In the case of the Longbottom family, both Neville's parents were high-ranked Aurors. So, on the rare occasion that Alice Longbottom was actually home on Mother's Day, she was determined not to 'make such a fuss over a made-up holiday.' The one year that Neville went to the trouble of making a gift for her, she had smiled, patted him on the head, and put the clay sculpture that sort-of resembled a crup on a shelf in her home office, where it would have proceeded to gather dust if not for the house-elves. A few months later, Neville started moving the crup all over the house, waiting for his mother to notice. He still moved it sometimes when he was home.

It wasn't that his parents didn't love him – Neville knew they did. They just didn't show that love very well, or very often. If they didn't love him, they would not have run towards the Death Eaters attacking him and his grandmother without any backup. Aunt Lily had told him before how Neville's mum was screaming his name as she raced towards Longbottom Hall. Neville's parents were just very busy, and not very parental.

Halloween needed no elaboration.

So Valentine's Day was not alone in Neville's long list of 'days it was just better to stay in bed on,' but given that it was the holiday Neville was currently facing, it was at the top of the list.

That Hogsmeade visit had been a complete disaster from the outset. He had been dragged to the village against his wishes by Hermione, who simply could not understand his desire to hide in the greenhouses helping Professor Sprout for the day, who he would have to apologize to later. Then, he was forced to listen to Hermione bemoan the unlikelihood of Ron Weasley ever noticing that she was female. The one saving grace of the day was that Hermione rescued Harry from the sobbing Cho Chang, but then she mucked up months of planning all in one go. Neville could not make up his mind if it would have been better to include Hermione in their plans, or if there was no way she was suited for their group.

Regardless, it was now Neville who was doing the dragging. Harry had stalked off towards the dungeons, silently fuming (almost in more than one definition of the word – Neville thought he had seen a bit of smoke rising from his brother), trusting that Neville would handle the situation. And that was why Neville had Hermione's arm held tightly in his grasp as he pulled her into an empty classroom near Gryffindor tower on their return from dinner and erected several privacy charms.

"What were you thinking!" Neville exclaimed as the last privacy barrier slid into place.

Hermione sniffed, clearly understanding she had done something wrong, but not knowing what, "I . . . I . . ."

"You weren't – _again_," Neville took a deep breath. "Did you even once consider that it might e too early to get that particular story out, or that this might cause even more trouble for Harry with Umbridge and the Ministry, or that maybe, just _maybe_, that night was traumatic and Harry might not want to just relive it all at your _command!_"

"I'm _sorry_," Hermione cried. "I just wanted to help."

"You didn't," Neville did his best to ignore the tears. If he softened, and comforted her, it might get him something he wanted in the short term, but it let her go on thinking that she was always right. No, Neville would take the hard road, the _right_ road. "Do you fully comprehend what you've done, and the position you've put Harry and me in?"

"Huh?" Hermione now looked utterly confused, her eyes puffy and red from crying, her cheeks splotchy, and Neville felt not at all sorry for her.

Neville tried to act like Remus when he was scolding them, the best disciplinarian out of all the Marauders, "You kidnapped and imprisoned a public figure, then blackmailed her into silence on your actions. You deprived her of her livelihood, reprehensible as it may have been. If this came out, you would be expelled, your wand snapped, and you would be lucky if you didn't spend any time in the Ministry holding cells or Azkaban. And now you've made Harry and me accomplices. His father is the Head Auror! My mum is his second, and my dad is a Team Leader! His godfather is a Team Leader, too. We have a _legal_ responsibility to report these sorts of things, so now we would certainly be expelled as well. With the Ministry after Harry you can guarantee he would be in Azkaban before you turned around. And the, our parents would be disgraced, lose their jobs, and have no influence to help Harry."

Hermione was nearly hyperventilating now in her tears. She had been so righteous in her approach that she had never stopped to consider that she might have been doing the right thing in the completely _wrong_ way. It would have been much better to inform James Potter that Rita Skeeter was an illegal animagus, allowing him to take away that weapon of hers legally, and charge her with invasion of privacy and a whole slew of other crimes. If Harry actually _wanted _to publish his story the Potters certainly knew other reliable reporters.

Neville explained all of this, and Hermione had nothing to say. He was disappointed in her, and his mind was working franticly to find a solution to this mess.

"Who do you think would get in trouble if the DA was discovered?" Neville switched subjects ubruptly, hoping to get Hermione to stop crying and start thinking.

Hermione took a deep breath and replied, "Well, we all would. It's an illegal club, against the Educational Decrees even if Umbridge is gone. The DA would be disbanded of course, and I'd imagine we'd all get detention. After all, nearly half the school is in the club and expelling that many students would look terribly bad for the Ministry."

Shaking his head, Neville wondered how Hermione could be simultaneously so very bright and yet so very blind to the world around her.

"You might get detention, yes, but Harry and myself," Neville spoke gravely, and with surety, "we would be expelled. Harry is the leader of the group, a position _you_ backed him into, and the Ministry is looking for any excuse to discredit him. To them, it would look like Harry is raising his own army against the Ministry, as there is supposedly no threat out there for us students to worry about. The Ministry would paint Harry blacker than black, declare him a dark lord in the making training his followers, and the public would recoil in fear. The Potter family would be ruined, and us Longbottoms? We are so strongly tied to the Potter that we would go down with them, as would Sirius and Remus. The Auror Corp would lose all their top leadership, as Amelia Bones likely would not survive the political fallout either."

Her eyes wide open in shock, Hermione nearly started hyperventilating. She choked back a sob, muttered an apology, and fled towards Gryffindor Tower.

Neville sighed and sat down heavily, watching her retreating form with a mixture of sadness and longing. He hated making her cry, and hated that it had to be his job to bludger home a few hard truths, but most of all he hated that none of her misdeeds, none of her blindness, stopped him from wanting her. Neville doubted he would be celebrating Valentine's Day the next year, and probably not the year after. He was hooked on Hermione Granger, and he knew it.

Stepping out of the classroom, Neville nodded at a passing ghost and looked up and down the hallway. Gryffindor tower was entirely unappealing just then. Everyone in the common room would be aware that he and Hermione had been talking, and would have seen her run to her room in tears. The last thing he needed was an interrogation, or a hexing from some misguided housemates. What alternative did he have, though?

Neville bit his lip – there was really only one alternative at that point, and getting there would be tricky, and he might not be welcome without Harry . . .

Deciding it was worth it to avoid his fellow Gryffindors, Neville set off through the castle corridors, trying to recall everything his ever tried to teach his about stealth. Really, it wasn't Neville's fault that he was a bit clumsy, and luckily, in the wide halls of Hogwarts, it wasn't much of an issue. He just had to work to make his steps quiet and try to avoid other people. If it were after curfew it might be easier, as there would be many fewer students about. Neville mentally cursed that he couldn't have borrowed the map from the twins, but that would have required entering the tower in search of them – the very thing he was avoiding to begin with.

Trying to look like he was just casually strolling the corridors, Neville got stuck talking to several DA members who had questions about the next meeting. With Snape teaching Defense the club wasn't nearly as needed as it was with Umbridge teaching, but even the Potions Master would have a difficult time getting the fifth and seventh years up to the level needed for their Ministry exams. It didn't help that the Ministry was trying to regulate his curriculum and that the new High Inquisitor was keeping an eye on the Defense classes in particular.

What the Ministry didn't know of course, and no outside of their little group, was that Snape and Harry were collaborating on teaching Defense. Snape informed Harry on what was likely to be tested on the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, and gave him some specific topics to work with that he knew he would never get to. Between the DA and Snape passing the same information to Slytherin as a whole via his prefects, the students of Hogwarts would probably pass their exams despite all the interfence from the Ministry – and the parents would not be happy when they discovered the lengths their children were forced to go to in order to learn a core subject.

But of course, Neville could share none of this with the members of the DA that he encountered as they were just returning from Hogsmeade.

Being a holiday, Neville's day was doomed from the start, and it was not entirely unexpected that he should encounter yet another problem as he turned the corner to head towards the stairs that led down to the dungeons.

Neville had been walking quickly then, as he did not want anyone to see him headed towards Slytherin territory, nor did he want to bump into any Slytherins. Being Harry's best friend protected him to some extent, but those Slytherins who were truly dark would likely not care what Harry might do to them in revenge. Of course, with Neville's own personal brand of holiday luck, the one Slytherin he bumped into was perhaps the most dangerous at that moment.

After the two wizards collided and the smaller picked himself up off the stones from where he had fallen, they eyed each other warily, and not without a certain level of disdain and distaste on both sides.

"Mr. Longbottom," the High Inquisitor's voice had nothing like Snape's talent for injecting venom and malice into every tone, but it was dark and sinister nonetheless, "you seem to be out of place. A Gryffindor such as yourself has no business in Slytherin territory. Ten points from Gryffindor for not watching where you are going in the corridors."

Neville desperately wanted to knock the sickly smirk off the man's face, to give vent to all his emotions right there in the form of one well-placed punch, but had a high enough sense of self-preservation to restrain himself.

"I was on my way to Professor Snape's office, Inquisitor Avery," Neville informed the man with as much respect as he could muster. "I need to inquire after a Potions tutor if I am to do well on my O.W.L.s and he knows which students are accomplished much better than Professor Slughorn does."

The malice Avery directed Neville's way was somewhat unnerving, but he had to be able face worse, and so Neville held his head high and made sure not to look the Death Eater directly in the eye.

"We'll see about that," Avery sneered at Neville. "I suspect you were on your way to visit your deranged friend in Slytherin."

"You and I both know Harry is not deranged," Neville said in a low voice, growing angrier than he had been before.

Avery took a step towards Neville, into his personal space, and Neville made sure to hold his wand at his side, visibly.

"You could be expelled for pulling your wand on me," Avery hissed at him. "I am sure the Minster would love to have you in the holding cells for night or two for threatening a Ministry official."

"I am merely holding my wand, Sir," Neville spat out, eyes narrowing, "not pointing it in your direction. If you want to bring me to the Ministry, fine. Perhaps my father is on duty, or Harry's. I could slip, you know, nervous as I might be, and accidentally vanish your left sleeve. As a minor, I would be released to my parents, but you might take a trip to visit the dementors.

"Or you could try to take me to your _other_ Master, though I doubt my capture would offset compromising your position here, as there would be significant evidence of the fight I will put up. Who knows, I might get lucky and win. Then it's just a little matter of Veritaserum and Fudge would have no choice but to acknowledge your Master's return." Neville's heart was beating wildly with the adreniline pumped into his system by the danger of this confrontation. He knew he was potentially making things much worse for himself, but just then he didn't care. He was at the edge of his tolerance.

"You little –" Avery snarled at Neville and raised his wand, taking a few steps back to make sure he did not get caught in the the wash of his own spell.

Voices were close by, and footsteps approached, a group of Hufflepuff students on their way to their common room. Avery holstered his wand and glared at the Gryffindor, as Neville slipped into the crowd, sparing just one hateful glance towards the man who was spying on Hogwarts for two Masters. With a few murmurs, a handful of DA members separated off from the gaggle of Hufflepuffs and escorted Neville to Snape's office, then headed back towards their dormitory.

Still hyperaware lest Avery follow him and attack from behind, Neville entered the Professor's office quickly, without knocking. He waited for a few moments, but did not hear anyone outside the door. Of course, Avery could have silenced his footsteps and be listening at that moment.

"Mr. Longbottom, to what do I owe the . . . pleasure," Snape drew out the last word, ensuring that his student knew it was anything but a pleasure.

Neville's eyes darted towards the door several times as he spoke, "I am sure you are aware of my disinclination towards Potions, sir, and was hoping you could recommend a sixth-year student to tutor me for my O.W.L.s."

"If you wanted tutoring, Longbottom, you should have started your first year," Snape's wand was quickly in hand, casting a myriad of silent spells towards his office door. "I have no respect for those who wait for the last minute to make any effort at improvement."

"Please, sir," Neville pleaded, playing out his part, impressed with Snape's vast knowledge of detection spells.

"Go to Professor Slughorn if you're so desperate for help," Snape snarled at him dismissively. "He is the one you should be speaking to on matters concerning Potions."

Snape motioned towards his quarters, and stalked towards the door, holding it open for Neville. Neville slunk through, making sure to look downcast, then left, seeing there were a few Slytherin students at the end of the hall. He headed back towards the stairs, turned a corner, and cast the Dissillusionment Spell on himself, shivering at the cold, wet feeling that ran down his spine.

Essentially invisible now, Neville retraced his steps partway, and turned down the hall that led to Snape's private quarters. He knocked quietly, and the door opened to admit him.

"You could have done that in the first place," Snape suggested, his voice much less caustic, but showing a bit of annoyance.

Neville reversed the spell and shook his head, "The halls were too crowded. I could have started a panic if I bumped into anyone, and then I ran into Avery, literally."

"Are you okay?"

Concern from Snape still felt truly odd, but Neville was getting used to this other side to the professor, the side that was Draco's godfather and Harry's mentor.

"Yeah," Neville nodded and felt the tension and adreniline bleeding out of his body, "I'm fine. It was just a little tense for a while. He's probably going to be out for my blood, if he wasn't already."

Snape sighed and conjured up his tea service, motioning to Neville to serve himself, "I am doomed to be surrounded by adolescent Gryffindors my whole life."

Neville raised his eyebrows at the drama, but said nothing. He wasn't sure exactly how much he could get away with in private with Snape. Neville had seen Harry and Draco heckle the man, and the twins barely knew the meaning of restraint, but with Neville there was still just a bit of residual fear from his earliest potions classes.

They sat in a comfortable silence for several moments, sipping at their tea, eating gingerbread biscuits, and watching the crackling fire. Neville was amazed at how well he was relaxing in his professor's company.

"You did not come here for help with Potions, as I am fully aware that Draco has been helping you while Harry and I duel, nor to enjoy my company," Snape teased him just a bit, suprising Neville once more. It was the first time Neville had been in the man's company on his own, and so their interactions had always included other people, giving Neville a buffer.

"I would have gone to Harry, but . . ."

"Yes, doubtless he and my godson are celebrating _Valentine's Day_ under the pretense of studying in their rooms."

"Hermione did something foolish again," Neville found himself blurting out, and then launched into a description of his entire day. He was almost horrified when he heard his own voice admitting to his crush on the bushy-haired know-it-all, but Snape did not ridicule him. Indeed, the man hardly reacted at all.

Done, Neville poured himself another cup of tea and leaned back in his chair, purged, exhausted.

"Come with me," Snape ordered.

"Huh?" It was all Neville could articulate, but he jumped to obey. He followed Snape into the room that he and Harry used for dueling practice.

"I'm sure you're aware that Harry could wipe the floor with me if he chose to use hie elemental skills to the best of his ability," Snape said in a quiet tone. "But he duels with me to relieve tension and exorcise his anger towards the Ministry and the Order, and to a lesser extent the DA and his family."

"I know," Neville told him, wondering exactly where the man was going with all of this.

"I am the last person to offer love advice, but I will tell you this," Snape turned and looked Neville in the eye. Despite knowing that the man's Legilimency was almost certainly stronger than Neville's Occlumency, he returned the fixed gaze. "You have been forced to mature far more quickly than any of your peers, with a few exceptions. Miss Granger is a fifteen-year-old girl, and I have yet to meet one who does not see the world in black and white. Worse, she has been exaulted by adults for her genius her entire life, and rarely told to look further than she has into _anything_ on which she sets her mind. Most of her teachers would not dare even to hint that she has not researched thoroughly."

Neville chuckled then, "I'd hate to see what would happen."

"Merlin save us," Snape muttered in agreement. "My point, Neville," the use of his first name made Neville perk up one more, "is that in order for Miss Granger to be a suitible match for you, she must first grow up. Are you prepared to wait that long, to watch her date other boys, perhaps even watch her think she is in love, knowing that while you wait she may never return your feelings?"

The mere possibility was painful, but Neville, feeling his throat prickle, nodded, a little uncertainly.

"I can certainly understand the pain of watching the woman you love with another," Snape confided, resting his hand on Neville's shoulder.

He felt a kinship with his professor then, something he never expected to happen in a thousand lifetimes. Neville nodded again and spoke softly, "Thank you, Sir."

"Now, whenever you are feeling overwhelmed, or exceedingly angry, you are welcome to duel with me, as Harry does," Snape offered, his tone firm and serious. "I will not have either of you exploding at some minor provocation and risking everything we are working for."

That sounded more like Snape. Neville didn't know if the professor was doing this for his sake, or for Harry's, but either way it felt good to have one more adult that knew Neville was competent, who respected him and helped him. He drew his wand and crossed the room, turning just in time to catch Snape's first, silent spell on his shield, and the duel was on.

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A/N: The High Inquisitor is revealed! See the first chapter of a Buffy crossover on my author page. No need to worry, I will finish this story before putting any true effort into that one.

Please Review!

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	73. Chapter 73

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-Three**

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_Harry made a mental note in the brief moment that he had time to think. Draco, plus jealousy, equals aggression. Harry had come back from Hogsmeade in a snit on Valentine's Day, pissed at Hermione for railroading him into that interview. He had eaten dinner at the end of the Slytherin table, a healthy distance between him and most of his housemates, then had gone straight to his room to finish some homework and fall asleep early. He had completely foregone the Slytherin Valentine's party in the common room, isolating himself from his House for the sake of everyone involved. At least he was not the only one – every half-blood in the House, and some of the purebloods, were keeping entirely to themselves, not fully certain where the loyalties of their classmates were placed. _

_Then Harry had awoken to the most amazing blowjob of his life. How Draco had gotten into his room, and into his bed, without waking him, Harry had no idea. He must have planned it carefully and used several spells to facilitate his sneak attack. But Harry didn't care about that. All he knew was that he was moments away from spilling himself in Draco's mouth, when Draco withdrew unceremoniously and climbed up to stretch along the length of Harry's body. He gazed down into Harry's eyes, now fully cognizant, his own eyes dilated with lust and hard with some other emotion._

"_You're mine."_

_Harry's response was to yank Draco's head down for a fierce kiss. He tasted himself alongside the single drink of alcohol Draco had imbued at the party down in the common room. Harry had a moment's urge to thank Cho Chang for this, if only to see the reaction, but knew the idea was monumentally stupid._

_Draco, Harry decided, was wearing far too many clothes, so he began remedying the situation. Fabric was tossed about, landing half-on half-off the bed, and once that creamy skin was revealed to him, Harry reached down and took Draco's fully erect, already leaking member in hand. He growled only one word into the blonde's mouth._

"_Mine."_

_In full agreement, Draco rocked into Harry's grasp. Harry wanted nothing more than to cum inside Draco – mouth, arse, he didn't care. Draco seemed to have much the same idea as he felt around for his wand and silently directed a spell at himself, before impaling himself on Harry._

_It did not last long, as both were too eager, too fired. Wind whipped through the room, accompanied by a brilliant flash of pure light. They finally lay side by side, panting in the aftermath, hands weakly touching what skin they could find._

Harry grasped his temples with his hands, trying to will away his frustration headache. Valentine's Day had been weeks ago, and he and Draco had not found sufficient time together to do much of anything. Easter holiday was looming, and after that studying for O.W.L.s would increase to a fever pitch. Already, Severus was brewing extra calming potions to stock up the infirmary for the high numbers of fifth and seventh years that were bound to end up their in exam induced panic.

Too much had been happening in too short a time.

While Umbridge being gone was a _good_ thing, having a Death Eater – a loyal one – roaming the halls with full Ministerial authority to punish students and faculty alike was not so good. The DA was driving Harry crazy, all of them going on about how they had _always_ believed him, and the atmosphere of Slytherin house was tenser than ever.

At least Harry did have the good sense not to name names. Apart from getting his own allies in trouble, informing the world of the identity of a handful of Death Eaters was not the best idea, especially as Harry lived with most of their children. Despite being under Draco's essential command, Harry would not put it past Greg and Vince to rough him up a bit if he indicated their fathers were in the graveyard that night – which they were. And there was of course the fact that the aforementioned free roaming High Inquisitor Death Eater had been kneeling before the Dark Lord that night as well. Putting his name in the article was a sure path to expulsion, wand snapping, and confinement in Potter Manor for the rest of his natural life.

He suspected his article was one of the reasons the Inquisitorial Squad was formed, yet another reason that Harry and Draco had been unable to find time together. Being both a prefect and being on the Squad had meant that Draco had to patrol the halls almost every night – High Inquisitor sanctioned bullying of the other Houses. It also meant that Draco was being even more irritating in public than usual, strutting about like he owned the school, taking points off people for things like 'being a half-blood,' and 'being poor.' Harry actually wished he had been present to see Weasel's response to that one.

With all the points the Inquisitorial Squad were taking off other students, the House Cup was going to be joke that year. The professors couldn't even keep up with them, despite McGonagall once giving Neville points for the superb knot in his tie, and Flitwick's points to Luna Lovegood for creativity in her essays every time she handed one in.

Harry was relieved he wasn't on the quidditch team, as he didn't think he could take the practices on top of everything else. He had to constantly sneak around the class, whether it was to meet Dumbledore, conduct DA meetings, or meet with his own little conspiracy group.

Of course, despite there being about two months remaining until exams, Hermione was already in full gear studying, so that any time Harry entered the library he was pulled in. She had apologized for the Rita Skeeter fiasco, but he was still a little irritated with her. The insane study guide that she had pushed on him, over his protests that he was fully capable of studying on his own, had not helped matters at all. Harry was just glad he didn't share a common room with the girl, and wondered more than once exactly what it was Neville saw in her.

Then, to make matters even more complicated, Avery had attempted to sack Trelawney, no doubt on orders from his darker employer, probably in an attempt to capture the woman and force the prophecy out her mind. Dumbledore had managed to intervene and keep her in the castle, but it was close, and Avery was furious at being thwarted. It probably didn't help that he certainly been punished for failing to bring Trelawney to Riddle.

Nervous that he was next in line, Hagrid had picked the next quidditch game to pull Harry into the forest and reveal the source of his extensive injuries.

Harry groaned and let his head fall to the table, "What was he _thinking!_"

"Gotta be a bit clearer on that, Mate," George spoke from across the table.

Harry had interrupted the discussion of . . . whatever it was the others had been talking about. He looked up and saw that all eyes were on him, Severus and Draco with their eyebrows raised in a eerily similar manner.

"Hagrid's little brother is hiding in the forest," Harry informed them with a deep sigh, "though I use the term 'little' with a great sense of irony. They are actually half-brothers."

"Different father I take it?" Neville clarified, looking a bit pale at the latest news.

Nodding, Harry continued to massage his temples and gratefully accepted the headache drought that Severus passed him.

"His timing could have been better."

The twins gave Draco astonished looks.

"Understatement of the _century_."

"How could it actually be _better?_"

It was a rare instance that the twins were not entirely in sync, but it did happen occasionally.

Severus silenced them all with his not-pleased look and turned to Harry, "Exactly how do you know this?"

"He dragged me into the forest yesterday to introduce me in case Avery manages to sack him," Harry sorted. "Like I'd actually be able to take care of a fully grown giant on my own."

"I will inform Albus."

Harry waved the offer away, "I have a meeting with him later tonight."

As it was Sunday afternoon, they had been able to meet for a short time after lunch. It was one of the easiest times for any clandestine groups to gather, as the student body pretty much scattered after the noon meal and could be anywhere in the castle or on the grounds.

Speaking of which, Neville was looking at his watch, "DA meeting in an hour."

"And I have to stop by the hospital wing first," Harry shook his head, wondering when exactly he was going to finish his weekend assignments.

Neville jumped up and Harry rose and started for the door, "I'll come with."

It was the beginning of spring, so naturally, Brie was sick. It happened like clockwork, whenever the seasons changed, despite the number of pepper-up potions and immune boosters and extra vitamins she consumed. The instant she started sniffling, Poppy or their mother – depending on whose realm she was living in at the time – would confine her to a bed and prepare the fever reducers, cough elixirs, and stomach settlers. As she was in her third year, her professor were accustomed to the routine, and sent all her work to Poppy, who helped tutor Brie through the classes she was missing.

"Here," Severus handed Harry a packet of parchment, essay assignments and quizzes for Brie, as he walked out the door.

Harry and Neville walked mostly in silence, and Harry blessed his blood brother for perhaps the millionth time for knowing exactly what Harry needed when he needed it. The last thing he wanted just then was meaningless chatter, and they couldn't speak of anything of import while in the halls. Harry would know if they came across a student under an invisibility cloak or spell with similar effect, but might not have time to warn Neville, especially if the student was practicing listening spells as well.

Brie was sleeping, and Harry was not about to risk the wrath of Poppy by waking her, so he and Neville left her potions homework and quizzes in a well-worn folder labeled _Brianna Potter Assignments_ on Poppy's desk.

The DA was, as everything seemed to be that day to Harry, incredibly annoying. How half of the older students managed to pass their O.W.L.s, Harry had no idea. On the other hand, if their level of proficiency was all that was needed, he probably didn't need to bother studying. Frighteningly, if their competence was indicative of the adult population of the wizarding world, then Riddle was going to have very little trouble taking over. That was fodder for some serious thinking, and Harry promised himself he would bring it up next time he and his coconspirators met in Severus's quarters.

"I take it you got the SlugClub invite?" Neville said as they made their way from the hospital wing to the Room of Requirement.

Harry nodded and sighed, "Thanks for not saying anything downstairs. I'm pretty sure the twins were invited, but Draco wasn't. He is _not_ happy about it." He waved his wand to set up some discreet charms that made their conversation appear entirely innocuous to any passersby.

Neville let out a low whistle, "That's a bold move from Slughorn. Draco's a prefect from his old house, and connected not just in the Ministry."

"But Slughorn is scared to death of contact with any Death Eaters," Harry continued in a lowered voice. "There's something other than potion skills that Riddle wants from him. He knows what Draco's dad is. None of the Death Eater offspring got invitations."

Neville nodded in understanding as they rounded the corner that led to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. They stopped talking in order to concentrate on the room for the DA.

There were already several members there when Harry and Neville arrived, mostly sitting around and talking, though a few of them were actually practicing their spells. Harry noted right away that the ones practicing had their N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year and were probably getting nervous. They could miss out on the career they wanted if the Ministry's policies prevented them from passing their Defense exam. Unfortunately, despite Umbridge's absence from the school, all of the decrees were still in place.

As the room filled up, those practicing joined their mates in milling around, and generally waiting for Harry to kick things off. He noticed that Hermione was hovering towards the back, instead of standing eagerly at the front as she normally would. Perhaps Neville's talk with her had really gotten through.

Unslinging the bag from his shoulder, Harry began pulling out rolls of parchment, "Okay," he announced, and almost smirked at the instant quiet that descended on the room, "I managed to compile a list of spells that normally appear on the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, along with some that will earn extra credit points and those expected for entrance into the Auror program."

Several eyes widened, notably those of a few Ravenclaws and Hermione. The list had been pretty easy to get, as Professor Dumbledore kept a version of it for any student that actually bothered to seek him out and ask for it. A note to Harry's dad, sent through Snape to avoid Avery and the Inquisitorial Squad's mail monitoring, had supplied the final section that Harry added himself. He gave a copy to the list to every member, as those students not taking their exams yet would have them as a study guide for future years.

"Those of you taking your exams in a couple months, go over the spells on these lists and make sure you know the theory. Since we're only supposed to be covering theory in class, we can ask Professor Snape to cover it if anyone is lacking there," Harry did his best to ignore the suddenly pale faces at the thought of actually making a request of Severus, and the few groans as well. "As far as the practical portion is concerned, we will split up the group starting tonight. Younger years will work with Ginny and Brie when she's better, fifth years are with me and Neville, and the sixth and seventh years are working with the Weasley twins."

Again, there were more groans, but none of the older students protested at being put under the titular command of the notorious pranksters. Once everyone got organized, it was probably the most productive meeting of the DA to date. Harry hadn't done it earlier because he had no idea what level everyone was working at, but it really made no sense for all of them to work together. There were students as young as second year in the group, and it was ridiculous for them to be learning alongside seventh years.

For that first meeting with the divided groups, Harry left Neville in charge of the other fifth year students, while he mostly floated around the room to make sure it was all going smoothly. As most of the spells they had already covered were O.W.L. curriculum, Neville was drilling that group on the Patronus Charm. It would qualify for extra credit if they could cast a corporeal version during the exam period. Thanks to both Quirrell and Lockhart, it was actually theory that most fifth years were lacking in.

Fred and George were setting up practice duels, and giving points for creativity in spell use. The sixth and seventh years who weren't dueling were going over the spells on their parchment rolls and trying out those they were unfamiliar with. They appeared to have divided themselves into little study groups, and Harry made no objection. As older students, they were far more capable of learning under their own power than the younger students were. Harry withheld a wince when he saw the twins breaking out their Wheezes as prizes for the duel winners. The faculty was not going to like that.

Harry told the few fourth years that asked that he had no argument with them switching over to work with the fifth years, and Ginny seemed a bit relieved. She had quite a bit of power at her disposal, and an interesting knowledge of curses and their counters thanks to all her older brothers, but it was a fairly large group to handle that was bound to make quite a few mistakes. Harry wouldn't be surprised, though, if half of them were casting bat-bogeys by the end of the session.

Hogwarts was going to be a very interesting place for the next few years.

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A/N: I'm also posting some more of the Buffy/HP crossover to help with the contest in place there. These chapters had been completed long before the slow down in my writing – _Child of Four_ will continue to come first.

I'd like to thank all my readers for their patience as I rewrite pretty much the entire rest of this story, which has changed dramatically from its original inception, all while going to school, caring for a toddler, and preparing for our next child arriving in May.

Please Review!

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	74. Chapter 74

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-Four**

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Fred and George were dumbfounded as they sat on Fred's bed and tried to process what had just transpired. She had found them. Just as the Potter twins told them, she had come to them, only the she that had come had not even been on their list of possibilities. They had not considered her, not even once, until the moment she had told them why she was waiting in their room to talk to them, and then everything had snapped into place. Suddenly they understood, and it all made sense, and every part of their being had been filled with the rightness of the situation.

Except for the fact that she was far too young.

And that was probably why she had not been on their list. In fact, everyone they had though of had been no more than two years younger than the twins. They had made the assumption that the elusive _she_ would approach them soon, and that once she did they would begin a relationship with her.

Fred and George knew they should have learned by then not to make assumptions. All their preconceived notions of how their prophesied romance would play out were turned on their heads the moment she started talking, twisting her hands in nervousness.

And they couldn't touch her. It had taken a few minutes to explain, to essentially reject her without actually rejecting her, and it had taken all their willpower as well. The instant they were able to put a face and a name with the abstract concept of _her_, all they wanted was her, and it was too soon. They had told her that they would agree to trying a relationship – no point in telling her yet that the three of them were essentially destined to be together – but not until after she passed her O.W.L.s. The ancient age of adulthood, before the Ministry changed it for political reasons, was the earliest they would let themselves give into temptation. Pranksters and rule-breakers they might be, but there was a limit to how far they would go in bending the rules of their society.

Besides, it felt kind of dirty to want her when she was so young, and not dirty in a good way. True, there were hints there of the woman she would become, but she was barely into puberty, far too young for her to be involved with two wizards just turned eighteen years old.

So they convinced her to wait, and then made the most difficult suggeston they had ever even considered. They told her to wait for them, but not to wait for everything. It was important, they felt, that she date at least a few boys, and girls if she decided to experiment there, and come to them knowing exactly what she wanted. Fred and George were nearly mad with jealousy at the prospect of other males touching her (and a little turned on at the possible girl-on-girl action), but they didn't want her to have any regrets if she had no practical knowledge at all when she finally came to them.

"Did we just . . ." George spoke aloud for the two of them, and they nodded in unison.

They swallowed deeply and willed away the reaction their bodies were having to the thought of her as a woman, and theirs.

"McGonagall in a muggle bikini," George stated deadpan, and both twins shuddered. That did it.

Fred grimaced at his twin, "The next few years are going to be murder."

And they would be. There were still two more years before she took her O.W.L. exams, and while they told her to find some experience with others if she wanted to, the moment they knew who she was the twins knew they would never touch another woman. It looked like they were going to be right-handing it for a while.

"Time," Fred commented absently.

A flick of George's wand displayed glowing red numbers, and the twins jumped off the bed, throwing open their wardrobes to search for their dress robes. The discussion with _her_ and the following reflection had taken much longer than they thought, and they had a party to get to – Slughorn's Easter party.

Why the man was having a party to celebrate Easter, which was primarily a muggle thing, they had no idea, but maybe they had more in common with him than they thought – any excuse for a party. Of course, there was also the fact that Hogwarts had an Easter holiday break; maybe it was just a spring break scheduled then to accommodate muggle-borns that wanted to continue practicing their religion. It would be like Dumbledore to do something like that.

Soon the twins were resplendent in robes of bright blue – charmed that way. Unlike dear Ronnikins, the twins had taken one look at the second-hand robes their mother found them and made a beeline for the charms section of the library. There was no way they would be caught dead in those antique monstrosities that passed for dress robes, but a color-change charm here, a trimming charm there, and a few tailoring spells that Flitwick had taught them after much begging and bargaining, and the twins had some respectable looking robes (and Flitwick a safer classroom).

They were late to the party, but fashionably late would not be a problem. They spotted Harry across the room, his deep plum robes clearly tailored just for him, with Lovegood on his arm. The twins sniggered softly; there was no way Draco could complain about Harry's choice for a date without looking absolutely pathetic, and Harry could squash any rumors that might persist in Slytherin about the two of them. Knowing Luna wasn't nearly as crazy as she appeared to be, Fred and George thought her the perfect date for Harry. She would understand there was nothing more than friendship while keeping away the fame-struck girls.

"Ah, boys, so glad you could make it," Slughorn greated the redheads joviously.

"Pleasure," Fred and George intoned together, nodding to their professor in unison.

They were doing very well in potions class that year (straight O's – ther mum would actually be proud for once), and Slughorn loved their prank items. It didn't hurt that they were getting in all sorts of extra cauldron time with Severus – something they never expected they would be thrilled to have until that year.

"Now," Slughorn leaned in to them with a greedy glint in his eyes, "any further progress on that pineapple surprise you said you were working on?"

This particular item was inspired by their professor and the ever-present candied pineapple at Slug Club meetings. They had tinkered with a few different ideas for effects, but the acid content in the pineapple was having a detrimental effect on almost everything they tried thus far. As they explained as much to Slughorn the professor rubbed his hands together and led the twins across the room, tossing out a few ingredient suggestions along the way.

"Excellent, excellent, now I have someone I want you two to meet." Slughorn raised his hand to catch the attention of one of his guests. "I've been talking to Ambrosius about you and he is most impressed with some of your products."

Fred and George both blinked, but refused to show much surprise. Ambrosius Flume was the owner of Honeydukes – potentially a very valuable connection for them once they opened their own store.

"Ah, you must be the Weasley twins," Flume greeted them heartily.

The man certainly did not look as though he owned the largest chain of candy stores in wizarding Britain. He was quite tall, easily standing a full head over Fred and George, but lean as a broomstick. He was not exactly handsome, but had striking features, his dark hair contrasting with pale skin. Light blue eyes shined with an inner light, nothing at all like Dumbledore's twinkle, but conveying a similar sense of child-like pleasure in the world.

"Gred and Forge, at your service," they bowed as one and smiled at the influential businessman, who laughed in response.

"Now tell us," Fred grinned at the possibility for information they desperately needed, "if you intended to open a store to rival Zonko's, would you choose Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley."

Flume grinned widely and drank a bit of firewhiskey before regaling the twins with a solid list of the do's and don't's of business on Diagon or in Hogsmeade. By the end of his lecture, which had Fred and George taking mental notes all the while, the twins were feeling eternally grateful to Slughorn, and vowed to work harder on those pineapple prank candies.

They were also glad that Sirius and Harry had both urged them to concentrate on classes a bit more than they intended. The fact that completing the N.E.W.T. exams – with good scores – would actually make them more attractive to investors was something they had not considered.

And then there were the complexities involved in renting a storefront. Fred and George had intended to go straight to the goblins in search of their store's premises, but had no idea that this was yet another part of wizarding life where an old family name (one that actually had a sizable vault to back it up) was far more valuable than a solid business plan and some start-up capital. An appointment with the Marauders was definitely in order over Easter holiday the next week.

The twins, again unlike dear Ronnikins, had never been embarrassed or ashamed at their parents' lack of wealth or their father's lack of ambition. They, along with most of their brothers, had enough ambition and creativity to spare. The older Weasleys, namely Bill and Charlie, the twins knew, had made a compact long ago that their parents' combination of fertility and lack of financial ambition would not leave them destitute in old age. Fred and George completely agreed with their older brothers on that score and had joined the compact, vowing to help support their parents when their father reached the age to retire from the Ministry.

They reminded themselves of that vow every time their mother disparaged their choice of vocation. Just as they knew the Potter twins were right about their future wife, they knew that they were meant to start this business, and that they would make a killing.

Of course, much of their profit would come from their side business – supplying items for the war to the Order, to Harry, and to the Aurors and Hit Wizards. Most of those products would then be adapted for sale to the general public, but Harry had made a good point that summer – as much as they wanted to profit, selling their products to help Death Eaters was something their society could not afford.

"Fred, George," a dreamy voice jerked them from their thoughts.

"My lady," Fred and George bowed to Luna and kissed her hand. They had been a bit disappointed in Ginny when she and Luna had drifted apart upon arrival at Hogwarts, but in retrospect assumed that Riddle had something to do with that.

Harry chuckled at them next to Luna, "I saw Slughorn finally got you introduced to Flume."

Feeling their eyes light up, Fred and George nodded emphatically, "We have got to talk to your godfather, and your dad, and uncle of course."

"I'll be sure to invite you over when they're all home – if they're ever all home this break," Harry ended somewhat darkly. The twins nodded, remembering that Moony had been sent on some mission for Dumbledore, while Padfoot and Prongs were probably at the Ministry more than at home.

"Too many wrackspurts at the Ministry," Luna added sagely, and the twins saw Harry grin. They weren't surprised that he appreciated her rather unique sense of humor, growing up surrounded by the Marauders as he did.

"She's been throwing Slughorn off his game all night," Harry commented with a wicked look in his eyes, and the twins saw yet another reason for his choice of date.

Anther couple drew their attention though, and they frowned, "What's Hermione up to?"

The girl appeared to be hiding in a curtained alcove while Cormac McLaggan was clearly searching for her, two cups of red liquid in his hands.

Harry let out what sounded distinctly like a growl, "She came with the berk. Nev said she was trying to make your brother jealous."

A duet of groans escaped, and the twins wished yet again that their younger brother had been sorted into Hufflepuff. He was brave, true, where absolutely necessary, and when a chess board was in front of him he managed to pull a brain out from _somewhere_, but he was also a lazy git with a huge inferiority complex. He failed to realize that he got up off his arse and actually worked for something, he might measure up to all the older brothers he envied.

It seemed that girls were yet another area where he was sorely lacking.

"Is Ginny here?" Fred questioned Luna. With the DA, maybe there was a chance at repairing that friendship.

Luna gestured across the room, and once the twins looked they saw the distinctive red hair of their family. It had to be Ginny; Slughorn likely couldn't be paid to invite Ron. "She's here with Michael Corner."

The twins frowned, but said nothing. They might not like the little git, but it was Ginny's choice. Still, they'd make it a point to say something discreet to Corner – it was their job as big brothers, after all.

The party wound down well after curfew, from which Slughorn excused all the students present. Hermione escaped early, when McLaggen wasn't paying attention to the door, and the twins and Harry snickered at her expense. Most important, though, was the information Fred and George had gotten from Flume. The joke shop had only been a dream for so many years, and then Harry had given them his Triwizard money, and suddenly the dream had become possible. True, the twins had already been inventing for years, but their plan had been to use those inventions to get hired at Zonko's or Gambol & Japes. They would build their empire from there.

That had been their plan from the time they understood that it actually cost a great deal of money to open a store.

And then Harry changed it all, first by introducing the twins to the Marauders, and then by giving them their very first investment. His belief in their potential meant more to them than he knew, and the twins had every intention of living up to that potential.

They were understandably anxious when Easter break was nearly over, and there was no word from Harry. The Weasleys were back at the Burrow, Bill having significantly improved the warding, and the twins, Ron, and Ginny were left home any time their parents went to an Order meeting. The exclusion grated, as Fred and George had been legal adults for more than a year, but the look in their father's eyes stopped any protests before they began. The more Weasleys there were in the Order, the more likely it was that Molly and Arthur would lose some of their children to the war. Percy's defection from the family was painful enough.

With only two days until school began again, Harry fire-called them, and the twins were at Potter Manor before he had finished talking, knowcking him back on the hearth in the process.

"Sorry."

Harry gave them a short-lived glare while rubbing the back of his head, then shook his head and directed the twins up the stairs to James's office.

There had been a short, silent debate among the Marauders after the twins explained their plans and what they needed. The three men communicated almost as well as Fred and George did.

Shortly, Sirius had left the room and come back looking every inch the proper pureblood lord. He had given Fred and George a critical sweep with his eyes, before twisting his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Soon, the twins were neatened up, and their plain holiday muggle clothes were transfigured in very basic, respectable robes.

"To the goblins, appearances are of great importance," Remus explained quietly from the sidelines. "Excuse me."

He left, having explained earlier that he wasn't in Britain for long, and the two remaining Marauders proceeded to explain a long list of rules for dealing with the goblins. The twins were quickly confused and the next two hours passed in a whirlwind of meetings with the goblins, gold exchanging hands, Sirius acting like a Malfoy, and finally, a key being presented to the older prankster.

He led them out of the bank and down the alley, to number 104. The storefront was in a bit of disrepair, but Sirius waved away any concerns. It was also a far larger bulding than Fred and George had expected to start with. There was no way they would be able to afford the rent with the investment harry provided, and they started to wonder if Sirius had understood their financial situation.

It took them only a few moments to realize that the key had been given to Sirius. The twins were not renting the premises; Sirius had bought the whole building.

"The second floor should make a good apartment for the two of you, and the third will be a good laboratory – just in case you blow the roof off one day. You wouldn't want to punch a hole in the floor of your bedroom, after all."

Sirius unlocked the front door and led them inside, Fred and George still a little disoriented and awed, "Padfoot, we can't . . . we mean . . . it's just . . ."

The older man chuckled at them, "Think of this as _my_ investment in your store. Considering some of the uses the Black money has been put to over the years, I can't think of anything better."

It started to sink in, and as one the twins turned slowly, taking in the dusty room around them. It was enormous, taking up almost the entire floorplan of the building, with a huge window at the front to display their goods. They could already see it in their mind's eye, the counter here with a register at the end, display cases there, and shelves upon shelves filled with Wheezes.

Wands were suddenly twirling and poking in unison, creating a ghostly illusion of their vision, spreading out through the room to create a shimmering plan for their future store.

Sirius was casting spells of his own, first conjuring parchment and then transferring the illusion to ink. He winked at the twins, "All that research Moony did for the Map comes in useful from time to time."

After an hour or so, there was a stack of drawings for the first and third floors of the building that Sirius rolled up and tied with some conjured twine. The twins were leaving the apartment up to the Marauder; it was inconsequential to them which room was the kitchen and which the bathroom. They could hardly imagine spending any time there, anyway.

As they left to head back to the Burrow, Sirius promised to get a contractor working on the store immediately, cleaning it up and building whatever was needed.

What the twins did not know, was that James had already contacted Bill and Charlie, and Arthure as well, and planned a large-scale warding of the building. The Marauders were determined that the twins deserved a chance at having their dream realized, despite the war brewing in their world.

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was going to be the best protected shop on Diagon Alley – rivaling Gringotts itself if the Marauders and the elder Weasleys had anything to say about it.

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A/N:

I'd like to thank all my readers for their patience as I rewrite pretty much the entire rest of this story, which has changed dramatically from its original inception, all while going to school, caring for a toddler, and preparing for our next child arriving in May.

Please Review!

**.:**O**:.:**O**:.**


	75. Chapter 75

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-Five**

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The air was forcefully ejected from his lungs, leaving Harry gasping as he slid down the wall that had just left a few bruises on his back. He knew the stones that formed the walls of Hogwarts were rough, but he hadn't known exactly _how_ rough until he had been slammed against them, making him aware of every little sharp protrusion that logically should have worn away in the approximately one thousand years that the castle had been standing. Of course, with magic almost anything was possible.

"Ow," was Harry's only comment once his breath returned.

Draco winced in sympathy, "Sorry."

"S'okay. We have to make this look real."

Luckily, as Slytherins, they had made a plan, and then formed a myriad of other plans that could be put into effect if their original preferred plan failed or was circumvented in any way. In this case, Avery had thwarted part of the original plan with his discovery of the DA. Harry wasn't sure exactly what magic Hermione had woven into the contract for the members, but he had a feeling he was going to find out soon.

Harry lunged forward and kissed Draco – hard. The boys never struggled for dominance in the bedroom, and Harry was finding their scrambling somewhat exhilarating. There was too much teeth involved for the kiss to be really sensual, but it was exciting and satisfying in the same way that a steep dive on his broom was; the frantic quality and possibility that someone might come by and discover them at any moment sent his adrenaline pumping.

Knowing that they could not really afford to have their continued relationship exposed, Harry and Draco regretfully stopped kissing and groping, and started assessing their appearances.

Harry winced when he gave Draco a good look over; the blond was entirely disheveled, a most unusual state for the Malfoy scion. His hair was mussed, his robes were wrinkled, and he even had a bloody lip. It was best not to mention the blood, Harry knew, as Draco truly did not react well when confronted with his own life fluid. How the other Slytherin could work with all the potions ingredients he did without even a moment of queasiness, yet turn green at the sight of a paper cut, Harry would never know.

"Come on then," Draco smirked at Harry mischievously – he was certainly enjoying the subterfuge.

Harry frowned, but allowed himself to be led along, schooling his expression to one of defiance and anger.

"Excellent."

Avery was waiting as they rounded the final corner to Dumbledore's office.

"I found this one running down to the dungeons," Draco declared proudly, his Inquisitorial Squad badge glinting in the torchlight. Unfortunately, that institution had not left the school with Umbridge; Avery had been only too glad to have his own little Slytherin squad of bullies and informants (with just a few Ravenclaws).

Harry played along once inside Dumbledore's office, showing defiance and objecting to Dumbledore's sacrifice, all the while exchanging looks and gestures with the Headmaster to convey that it was the perfect time for Dumbledore to get out of the castle and do the investigative work on the Horcruxes that only the older man could do.

"Come now, Minister," Harry turned towards Fudge with his most condescending attitude, "surely you, as a former Hogwarts student yourself, understand the nature of the room from which that parchment came."

Blank looks were on every face in the room and Harry was feeling truly Slytherin at that moment. He heaved a sigh and straightened out his robes, flicking off a few invisible particles of dust that would not be able to gather on the charmed fabric anyway. The move was classic Malfoy, and served to irritate those who were waiting impatiently.

"The Room of Requirement is exactly what its name implies," Harry explained as though he was the professor and all the adults in the headmaster's office the students. Kingsley was going to have a difficult time holding in his laughter. "It provides whatever it is that the user requires. As I did not wish to study Defense in my common room, where younger students could perhaps learn information above their level, the Room became one suited for that study.

"As High Inquisitor Avery," Harry tossed an innocent, charming smile over his shoulder to the man, making his face redden with anger, "required evidence against both me and Professor Dumbledore, the Room provided him with said evidence, fully manufactured by the magic of the castle of course. That parchment has less value as legal evidence than the third-hand gossip in the Hufflepuff Common Room."

It was a not-so-subtle dig to Fudge, who was sorted into Hufflepuff for his years as a Hogwarts student.

After Harry got the Minister fully flustered and Avery rather angry, Dumbledore twinkled back at him and stunned the entire room, Harry and the various Order members excluded.

"I must admit, that was rather satisfying," Dumbledore remarked as he glanced down at Fudge's prone form.

Harry chuckled a little, and heard the same from Shaklebolt and McGonagall, but then sobered, "Dad's gonna catch hell at work for this."

Kingsley put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, "He'll have plenty of warning."

Harry smiled up at the dark-skinned auror who had become a part of the extended Potter family. He turned back to Dumbledore, "How will I contact you if necessary? S – Professors Snape or McGonagall might not be available to pass along a message."

"Teach him to message," Dumbledore instructed McGonagall before he wished them all luck and stunned Kingsley.

"Wait!" Harry stepped forward quickly to get the Headmaster's attention. "I already know how; I meant something that won't draw any attention."

Dumbledore paused and frowned, "I will give it some thought, Harry, and get word to you. It is true you may not be able to send a Patronus in certain company."

He then signaled McGonagall to begin the process of reviving the various visitors to the Headmaster's office and disappeared in flash of Fawkes's fire.

"Why didn't you stop him?" Fudge snapped at Harry as the fire faded from the air.

Harry gave the minister an incredulous look, "Precisely _how_ should I have done that?"

With an angry glare, the man stalked from the room, aurors and Percy Weasley following him closely. His voice, clearly enraged at this failure to silence Dumbledore permanently, echoed up the stairs, "Avery!"

The Death Eater glared at the door, and Harry stifled laughter at the situation. The man had as little regard for Fudge as most of the populace did

"Scuttle along then," Harry could not help getting in a little dig, though.

With a snarl in the direction of Harry, McGonagall, and Marietta, who had tears silently streaming down her face, Avery swept out of the room.

"Not nearly as dramatic as Severus," McGonagall noted absently, clearly forgetting the two students momentarily.

Harry nodded at her comment, "It's the cut of the cloak; Snape's has more fabric in the back."

A sniffle brought them both back to part of the cause of the night's excitement. Harry frowned as he looked the girl over, and sighed. The word _Sneak_ was boldly spelled out on her forehead in bright red spots, looking like particularly nasty acne.

"My mum works in the Floo office," Marietta explained through her tears, and then became angry. "She could have lost her job if I didn't tell them! I don't deserve this; I was protecting my family!"

Not only that, Harry knew, but she had played right into their plans. If the girl had not betrayed the DA, Harry would have had to find a way to manipulate a betrayal or accidental discovery. It was the best way to get Dumbledore the freedom he needed to investigate Riddle's life and the Horcruxes, and would also put the Ministry in even greater debt to Harry and the headmaster once the truth came out. He felt truly sorry for the Ravenclaw, as he might have done the same. After all, to her it was not yet war, but rather just an illegal study group.

"I'll find out what the spell was," Harry offered, looking over to McGonagall but not able to read much from her stony expression.

"You will?" Marietta sniffed a bit.

McGonagall put a hand on her shoulder, "Come along, dear. In the meantime we will see if Madam Pomfrey can do anything for you."

With Marietta turned to leave the office, she sent a small smile of approval in Harry's direction.

The next several days were tense in the school. Professor McGonagall continued in her capacity as Deputy Headmistress, but the Ministry refused to elevate her to Headmistress. There was word that there had been an attempt to name Avery as Headmaster, but it would not take as he was not a professor at the school. It was a stroke of luck, or excellent foresight on Dumbledore's part, as a Death Eater Headmaster was not something Harry wanted to contemplate.

Avery was still High Inquisitor, though, and without a Headmaster on the premises, there was no one to check his power. All non-Slytherins (and Harry) were walking on eggshells, afraid to put a single toe out of line for fear of whatever punishment the man might devise. Luckily, he had to keep up the pretense of representing the Ministry and was also unable to affect the curriculum. No matter what the Minister thought, he could only change things at Hogwarts on the surface.

Purportedly as part of his inspection for the Ministry, Avery decided to sit in on a 'random sampling' of the fifth years' career counseling sessions, which of course meant that he was sitting in on those of Harry and his friends.

"I assume, Potter," Snape said with a sneer of disgust, "that you have every intention of following the family tradition and joining the Aurors."

Before Avery could interrupt, leaning forward with an eager look on his face, Harry yawned and waved his hand as though batting away the suggestion, a mild irritant such as an insect whose sting was barely noticed. Though joining the Aurors was indeed his first choice, he had no illusions about the meeting being a true Career Advice session.

"I was actually thinking of becoming a dilettante, Professor Snape," Harry said as he leaned back in his chair casually and slowly crossed one leg over the other. Imitating Draco, he began to examine his fingernails.

"Pardon me?" Avery asked incredulously from behind him. The man had clearly been raised with the older views on sex and propriety, views that were slowly dieing out with the influx of muggle culture. Harry was counting on Avery being horrified by this session – he had planned things based on that assumption.

Harry acted as though Avery wasn't there and continued addressing his Head of House. He recognized the slight tic in Severus's jaw. The man wanted to laugh but would not let himself. Others frequently thought it was a sign of anger. It was a sign of how little the other Death Eaters actually knew the man that Avery did not pick up on this little deception.

"You know I'm the Potter Heir. As a result I have more money than I know what to do with." Harry stretched and yawned again, tapping his mouth softly with one hand. "I thought of seeing how much I could waste in one year, and then trying to exceed that the next. I do love to dance, and haven't been to more than a few of the clubs London has to offer. There is also Paris of course, Amsterdam, Berlin, the Riviera, Madrid, Moscow, New York . . ."

"So when you graduate you intend to drink and dance away your fortune?" Snape questioned, curling his lip.

"Not quite," Harry responded as he stood and swirled his cloak on over his shoulders. "I also intend to have sex with as many young wizards and witches as I possibly can, muggles, too. Good day, sir."

He left the office, Avery's jaw hanging open. If he had stayed a moment longer he wouldn't have been able to prevent himself from either laughing himself, or taking a picture. The looks on Snape's face had been equally priceless. Draco had fully agreed that they shouldn't warn him of their plan. It had been much more amusing to see his unprepared reactions.

Harry waited around a corner until Avery was gone and then returned to the office. As soon as he entered and the door closed Draco stepped out of the corner and took off the invisibility cloak, laughing his head off.

"A dilettante, Potter?" Severus questioned him, his customary scowl fighting with a smile.

Snickers escaped Harry then, "Did you get a good look at his face?"

"And when you told him you were planning to lay all of wizarding _and _muggle Europe!" Draco gasped out through the laughs.

"New York, too," Harry reminded the blonde smugly.

"Not that there was ever a chance of converting the man," Severus informed Harry, "but Hector is even more convinced than ever that the purebloods must grab the reins of our society before it's too late."

Following that afternoon, as a fringe benefit, Avery always gave Harry an odd, sort of constipated look when they crossed paths, and avoided direct contact. It made things a little easier for Harry, especially as the Inquisitorial Squad wasn't sure what to do in regards to him; he was one of the figureheads for the light, but he was also a fellow Slytherin. As House rules required Slytherins to keep their conflicts in-House, the situation was simply too confusing for many of the thugs that Umbridge had recruited.

Harry heard nothing from Dumbledore, had no idea if he making any progress on hunting down the horcruxes, and before he knew it, exam time crept up on the students of Hogwarts.

The exams went smoothly for the most part. Much to Harry's surprise, several members of the DA managed to cast the Patronus Charm during the Defense exam.

It was when Harry woke up screaming the night of his History exam that the trouble truly began.

One moment Harry was in the Department of Mysteries, torturing Moony, and the next he was sitting up in bed, shaking, with Draco trying to get his attention. He took a shuddering breath, before turning to look at the pale, anxious face flickering in the inconsistent light from the fireplace – which had not been lit when they went to sleep.

"What is it?"

"Get Severus," Harry gasped out, still trying to orient himself in reality, his vision swimming. "We have a big problem." He gave Draco a brief explanation of the vision that woke him.

It wasn't long before Severus Snape was pacing in his office. In deference to the man's presence, and because he expected to be leaving Hogwarts for one reason or another that night, Harry dressed while Draco fetched their Head of House. He was thankful he did, as Draco returned alone with the message to get his arse to Snape's office and bring whatever he might need for a rescue mission.

"Lupin has been out of contact for some time," Severus informed Harry after assuring him that his father, godfather, and the Longbottoms were on their way to Hogwarts. "It would have been simple enough to note that he wasn't following his usual routine, and then to check with the Ministry registration to see he's out of the country."

"Or Riddle simply knows where he is because there are enough werewolves on his side to have all the colonies covered," Harry commented with more than a little snideness, well aware that Severus knew exactly where Remus was, and too worried and anxious to censor himself.

They were thankfully avoided a confrontation by the arrival of Harry's dad, Padfoot, and the Longbottoms. At a look from his father, Harry explained his dream again while Severus Flooed McGonagall and requested a few Gryffindors. The two Marauders present were visibly angry. It was highly unlikely that Moony had actually been captured in Eastern Europe and transported back to London to be tortured in the Ministry, but it was a chance they could not afford to take. There was also the potential to possibly force the Minister's hand.

"If you were to hare off to the Ministry on a rescue mission," Aunt Alice questioned Harry softly, "which students would go with you?"

Harry listed several names, and Severus grabbed another handful Floo powder with a drawn-out sigh.

Before long, Neville, Hermione, Brie, Ginny, the Weasley twins, and Ron Weasley were escorted to Severus's office by McGonagall.

"What's he doing here?" Harry indicated the Weasel with his thumb, speaking to Neville and the twins as quietly as possible with all the noise in the room.

"He tagged along . . ."

". . . again."

An hour later, the fireplace in James Potter's office flared green as it spat out eight teenagers.

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A/N:

I'd like to thank all my readers for their patience as I rewrite pretty much the entire rest of this story, which has changed dramatically from its original inception, all while going to school, caring for a toddler and an infant.

Our youngest son arrived, after a very difficult labor and birth with a few complications, and is now a thriving three-month-old.

Please Review!

**.:**O**:.:**O**:.**


	76. Chapter 76

**A/N: Not yet beta'd – will repost as soon as that is done.**

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**Chapter Seventy-Six**

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"I can't believe you decided by Rock, Parchment, Wand," Hermione snorted as they all dusted soot from their robes. Ron stuck his tongue out in response. "Real mature."

"So which way . . ."

". . . is the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry took on the leadership role that would be expected of him for this venture, "Wands at the ready, follow me." He looked over the others that has accompanied him to the Ministry and focused on Ron. "You, stay by your brothers and keep your damned temper under control." There was a tighntening of the muscles in the redhead's jaw, and smoldering anger in his brown eyes, but he nodded tightly. He turned to his sister and the youngest Weasley, "Stick by me or Neville." They both nodded in response. He simply exchanged a look with Hermione, trusting her to keep a cool head.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was unnaturally empty; it was usually staffed by Aurors around the clock, as criminals did not work normal business hours. Yet the desks only reflected flickering candlelight and the office doors were all shut tight. It was the only time Harry had ever been in the bullpen and encountered complete silence. Merely the fact that the department was empty meant that this rescue mission, while unconfirmed as far as Remus was concerned, was almost certainly necessary for someone.

Regardless, heads would roll in the department the following day. No matter what the situation, at least one pair of Aurors or Hit Wizards was required to remain in the office at all times. If an emergency was called in, there needed to be someone available to contact the on-call teams. Harry wasn't sure what could get the on-duty Aurors to abandon their post, but whatever it was, it did not bode well.

"Shit."

"That about sums it up."

"Alright, this way," Harry swallowed as he opened a door that looked like any other in the department, but led to a little-used stairwell. Being the son of the Head Auror had some perks, like knowing the emergency plans of the Aurors in case of a Ministry lockdown. This staircase, used primarily in drills, was one of many that were part of several of those plans.

"Keep sharp," Neville said in a somewhat shaky tone. "This feels wrong."

George gave Neville a cocky salute, "Aye, aye," which caused Neville to flush brightly, though whether is was caused by nervousness or pride Harry was unsure.

They jogged down the stairs, wands out and ready, joking and talking finished. There was a palpable tension in the group as they each prepared to go into battle led by a fifteen-year-old. No matter how well-trained or gifted in magic this particular fifteen-year-old might be, it was extraordinarily risky.

At the bottom of the stairwell there was a dimly lit hall, the end of which appeared as a dead end. Like all wizard-born, however, Harry knew that things were not always as they seemed to be. This dead end, for instance, was more like the portal that brought students from Kings Cross Station to Platform 9-3/4 in London. He skimmed his hand along the wall until he noticed the slight change in how the wall felt – not in regards to texture but in the ambient magic of the surface.

With a slight cock of his head, he signaled the Weasley twins to go first. Fred and George calmly stepped through, their faces set in identical expressions of grim concentration. Ron went next, hiding a slight tremor in his wand hand. The others followed one-by-one, with Harry bringing up the rear. Once through, he scanned the coldly tiled corridor swiftly, with every one of his senses.

"Clear."

Nods answered his statement, and as a group they made their way past the opening that led down to level ten and the Wizengamot courtrooms to the plain black door at the far end, passing the spot where Mrs. Weasley was attacked. The blood had been completely washed from tile and mortar.

"I can't say what's on the other side," Harry swallowed, not accustomed to this inability to detect at least a glimmer of what lay beyond a door. There was no indication of heat, cool, air patterns, moistures, as though a vacuum awaited him. Whether the Department of Mysteries knew some way to ward against Elementals, or the department was a void since its inception, Harry did not know, but it made him anxious.

"Pairs?"

Harry considered for a moment, and revised his earlier assessment of the situation. He nodded, "Fred and George; Brie with me; Nev, take Ginny; Hermione and Ron. Watch each others' backs."

The assigned pairs moved closer together and Harry opened the door. Carefully, they moved through, knowing that Death Eaters could be lying in ambush at any time. Ideally, they would shoot a volley of stunners through the door before entering, but without knowing the exact layout of the Department of Mysteries, they risked not only damaging priceless artifacts and devices, but unpredictable magical interaction. They could bring the entire Ministry down on their heads if they weren't careful.

The door closed behind Hermione and the room started to spin. It was disorienting, as intended, as the circle of doors blurred past their eyes. When the room stopped, not one of them knew through which door they had entered. With a few exchanged looks, each pair positioned themselves at a door, one with a hand on the knob and the other with wand at the ready.

"Three, two, one, NOW!" Harry commanded and three doors opened.

"Celestiary."

"Time Room."

"Won't budge."

"I don't know and I don't want to know."

The other three pairs turned to look at Hermione, who had an expression of extreme distaste on her face. She shut the door and swung her wand, marking it with a fiery slash. The others mimicked her actions and as the last door closed the room began to spin again. With only three doors, side-by-side, remaining, the extra pair took position behind the center door, ready to follow any of the three.

"Entrance." Brie closed the door and Harry marked it with blue flame instead of red.

"A stadium, with an archway."

"Hall of Prophecy." Neville stated, and swallowed deeply.

They proceeded carefully into the room, the silence from within not at all comforting. Harry was well aware that there were spells to mask the presence of beings, to eliminate sound, to hide nearly anything, and that Voldemort likely knew many dozen more than Harry.

"Cover as many angles as possible. Shields up," Harry felt the tension in every muscle of his body. Whether or not they would find Remus under Voldemort's wand, it was safe to assume there were disillusioned or otherwise hidden Death Eaters throughout the room, waiting for their queue. It was disquieting to know that spells could start flying at any moment. Harry was rethinking career choices; he had no desire to feel this way on a regular basis.

"97. This is it," Harry swallowed and turned the corner to find . . . nothing but another tall row of shelves lined with the glass prophecy orbs.

The teens exchanged uneasy glances, but proceeded regardless. The labels of each orb showed prophecies of the past and those yet to come, with one, just one, that pertained to the now.

"Here it is," Harry spoke, striving to attain the proper inflection, the tone that would make listeners think that he was afraid, that he was confused, that he was about to learn something monumentally life-changing.

He slowly reached up, and removed the orb that bore his name from the shelf at roughly eye-level, and turned to face the masked men and women that had appeared from the shadows . . .

"Something is wrong!" Harry recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy and cringed internally. The whole situation just got even trickier than before. "They're too good to be students."

Shards of glass fell all around them, and the teens stuck to their pairs, one shielding while the other took the offense. They used their environment, bringing down shelves of prophecy, destroying the utterances of thousands of seers. McGonagall would be thrilled.

"Cover!" Brie yelled out, as she darted around a corner. Sirius came back around, the Polyjuice worn off, robes reverting from their timed transfiguration back to those Sirius had been wearing in Severus's office earlier in the evening.

"Bugger! They're Aurors!"

The battle took a turn then, as the fighters were all in their accustomed forms and thus a little smoother on their feet.

"How'd you like being a girl, Padfoot?" Harry's dad called from across the Time Room as they fought off the Death Eaters. A bright red stunner connected with Jugson and sent him falling into an hourglass.

Everyone, Death Eater, Auror, and teen alike, stopped fighting and watched in horror as the man's head reverted to infancy, then back to adulthood, and to infancy again in a sickening cycle, while his body thrashed in an attempt to pull free.

"Ew." Harry remarked with a wrinkling of his nose.

"Bit me, Prongs!" Sirius called back across the room, signaling the return of the fighting.

Sirius threw a shield up and Harry sent his spells through. He had worked for hours upon hours with Severus to use his elemental skills in combat while disguising his abilities as standard spells. Fire was his element of choice, and he used it well. To his credit, Sirius did not react to Harry's newfound control over his abilities beyond a small smile of pride directed at his godson, slightly incongruous in that time and place.

Harry had only a moment, in between dodging and firing off spells, to wonder if the rooms in the department shifted at will, as no door once closed ever seemed to lead to the same place. It did make escape unpredictable, as they never knew who might come though a door following them, nor who or what would be on the other side as they emerged from one room to another.

With his godfather at his side, Harry did battle amongst the planets, only his skill at manipulating air currents saving him and Sirius from what could have been disaster. He had no idea for what the purpose the room existed, but Harry doubted the Unspeakables would appreciate that several stars had gone supernova and Pluto had slight shrunk, now resembling a moon more than a planet.

A streak of purple got past their shield and sliced through Harry's robe, opening up a gash a few inches long on his upper arm. Concentrated heat directed at the area instantly cauterized the wound.

_Percussio!_ _Colloportus!_

Harry's spell took out a still-masked Death Eater, while Sirius's sealed the room and bought them a few moments before someone managed to unlock the doors.

"You okay?" Sirius turned a concerned look to Harry, and Harry grinned up at his godfather.

"Never better, Padfoot," he answered in part bravado, part sincerity. The adrenaline rush of the fight had his heart pounding and his senses at their peak. It was an incredible feeling, and Harry felt the draw of a life where he could feel this way on a regular basis, but he grew up the son of an Auror and had watched his mother whenever his father was late coming home. Harry did not know what he wanted to do with his life, but more and more, he was feeling like this was not it. He shook his head to clear his mind; now was not the time to be considering his career options.

"We need to regroup," Harry gave his godfather a wry smile, which was answered in kind. "Yeah, kinda tough right now, I know."

"Aurors do have a certain protocol in situations like this," Sirius chided Harry.

"And that is?"

"Just stay with me, kid," Sirius ruffled Harry's unkempt mop of hair, eliciting a scowl in return.

Sirius cast his Patronus, and sent it out with a message to his fellow Aurors. Within moments, a shimmering werewolf returned and spoke in Tonks's voice, _Veil of Death. Keep the high ground._

"I could have done that," Harry groused, part of him intrigued that Tonks had the same Patronus as him – Moony. He wondered what was going on there, and raised a single eyebrow at Sirius.

"Shagging like bunnies, those two," Sirius commented with a grin.

Harry shook his head, "Mental images, Padfoot. I really didn't need to know that."

"You asked."

"Did not."

Their spat was interrupted by the crackle of Sirius's locking charm canceling.

"No time for that," Sirius sprang up, followed close by Harry, "this way now."

They passed through another door, locking it behind them, and entering again the room filled with time turners. Sirius went to the far door, ignoring the gruesome spectacle that was Jugson, and started incanting.

"You know your way around here?" Harry exclaimed angrily.

Sirius glanced back apologetically, "I'm not supposed to, so we didn't use the spells earlier."

"How?"

"Who do you think your mother works for?"

Harry was shocked for the first time that night. He knew that his mother developed spells, but he thought, an erroneous assumption he now realized, that she worked with the Committee on Experimental Charms. He took in a deep breath and exhaled out his frustration. His family excelled at keeping secrets, and he had to remind himself that he had more than a few of his own.

"Sorry, pup."

"Need to know, Padfoot." Harry looked at his godfather apologetically, knowing the older wizard had detected his anger. "I get it."

Sirius and Harry exchanged nods, and stepped into the next room, where battle was already being waged. The room was thick with magic, spells being exchanged, fighters apparating around the room. It was difficult to tell friend from foe, as no one stayed in place for more than a few moments. Harry had been training, but not in a setting like this. He took a deep breath and saw Neville across the room, facing off with Dolohov, Tonks on the ground at his side. There were a few lumps of black robe, fallen Death Eaters most likely. Moody was against a wall, fighting furiously against two opponents.

Sirius apparated and Harry shot off a curse at a white mask. He missed, and dove to the side to avoid the answering curse, hitting one of the sharp edges of the tiered floor with his thigh. He hissed at the pain – that was certain to bruise – and jumped to his feet. He ran to reach Neville and help him cover Tonks, stopping to dodge curse and fire off his own on the way.

Spinning around and sending out a flame whip, Harry ducked a bright green killing curse. He turned back to see Neville go down with a scream, thrashing under what could only be Cruciatus.

Cackling below, Bellatrix Lestrange gloated at her victory, "Finishing what I started, baby Longbottom!"

"Neville!" Alice Longbottom's anguished cry turned heads all over the room as she turned and apparated to her son, slashing down her arm to cast a vicious slicing hex at Bellatrix.

The Death Eater had to cancel her curse to apparate out of the path of the incoming spell, which would have separated her head from her body if it hit. Bellatrix reappeared and spotted her cousin, an insane gleam lighting her eyes.

"Come play, cousin dear?" Bellatrix taunted. "Mummy and Daddy would be so disappointed."

"I can't tell you how much that means to me, Bella love," Sirius responded in a snarl.

The two dueled, their wands moving in a continuous dance of curses and hexes exchanged. Their knowledge of each other, having been raised almost as siblings, was clear as they anticipated the spells of each other.

Harry wrenched his attention away and finally made it to Neville, Tonks, and Alice. He took over the job of shielding from his aunt and let her work on what healing she could do for the others. Doing his best to ignore the tears streaming down her face, Harry swatted away incoming curses and fired off stunners and binding charms. The hood of one Death Eater flew back as he was propelled into a wall, caught by one of the stunners, and Harry saw white-blond hair. He only had a moment to spare a brief thought for Draco's reaction when he learned of this later.

"Ha ha! I think I may just burn you off the tapestry later," Sirius yelled out. "I, Sirius Black, head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, do hereby cast out from the house and dissolve any ties with Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black."

"Noooo!" Bellatrix's scream rivaled Alice's despair from earlier.

Laughing, Sirius did not see her flick her wand, and was caught in the abdomen by a sickly orange spell. His face twisted in pain as he fell back. Harry's heart was in his throat as he saw the path of his godfather's fall, and time slowed to a crawl. He stood, and saw his father fighting his way through Death Eaters to get to Sirius, but knew he would be too late. Tears were falling, and rage swelled up as Harry ran, only vaguely noting the arrival of more Order members.

"Dumbledore!"

Bellatrix's shriek prompted the turn of the battle, as Death eaters began to flee. Several grabbed fallen comrades as they began to apparate towards door in an attempt to escape.

Yet Harry only had eyes for Sirius as he fell towards the flapping veil. It was an artifact Harry had never seen, nor ever heard any mention of, but he instinctively knew that to fall through that veil was death.

Wind swirled around the room, and the flames of the torches leapt towards the vaulted ceiling. Sirius seemed to hover in midair, and then his fall changed direction. He slumped to the side, and lay there, curled inward with a grey pallor to his face. Bellatrix cast yet another spell his way, but Harry was close enough now to slide into its path and bring up his shield, sending it careening back at her.

The insane witch laughed loudly, and dashed up the stairs and out a door.

Harry rolled to face his godfather and stretched his senses to their limit, not at all liking what he felt. Padfoot was both too hot and too cold, the heat gathering where the curse hit, while his limbs were losing what warmth they held. The paths of water through the body were all wrong.

He knew next to nothing about healing. He could mend little cuts and bruises, give his younger siblings the right amount of Pepper-Up for a cold, but nothing he knew could help Sirius.

"Padfoot! Sirius!" James Potter skidded to his knees next to his son. "Damn you, answer me!"

His wand flashed furiously as he cast spell after spell. Standing and backing away, Harry felt his grief fading away, with anger swiftly filling its void. No one was paying him much attention just then as the standing Aurors there tended to their wounded and bound prisoners. Dumbledore was on his knees next to Alice and Frank, who were clinging to each and sobbing, and Harry's anger grew.

Using the spell he had observed Sirius casting, it was simple to find his way out of the department, and he was soon running through the Ministry halls. There was the flash of a cloak, and he hurled himself to the ground to avoid yet another killing curse. He rolled and came to his feet, wand out, and he and Bellatrix circled the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

"Give me the prophecy, boy!"

"Fine, Bitch!" Harry withdrew the sphere from his pocket and hurled it across the room. He almost wished he could be there when Voldemort discovered it was a fake.

Her eyes dancing with fanatic delight, Bellatrix caught it with a spell before it smashed against the fireplaces. Taking advantage of her distraction, Harry set her robes on fire, engulfing her within seconds.

Bellatrix screamed, but managed a flame freezing charm, which Harry regrettably allowed.

Panting, her skin bright red with burns, and wearing only a singed dress now, Bellatrix called out, "Master! Master! I have it!"

"I wouldn't speak so soon," Harry smirked her way and shot off a piercing hex that she batted aside, no longer allowing her attention to wander. "I don't think your master will be very pleased with you."

"Is that so?"

The low voice made Harry's stomach clench. It was nearly a year to the day since he had heard that voice outside of dreams, and a visceral terror went racing through his body.

"Good evening, Tom."

Harry wondered how the headmaster could sound so very casual and calm at that moment, and wondered how much was a façade. Harry, himself, was anything but calm, and it was taking all he had to keep the waters from rising out of the fountain and the fires from leaping out of the fireplaces.

Bellatrix cackled, and swept her wand towards Harry, Dumbledore gestured and the statues from the fountains leapt to life, Voldemort hissed and green flame shot through the air, while Harry ducked, spun, and brought his own wand to bear, crimson flames flashing out to collide in the air with emerald.

There was a shower of stone as a stature intercepted a killing curse.

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	77. Chapter 77

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**Chapter Seventy-Seven**

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**YOU-KNOW-WHO SEEN IN MINISTRY ATRIUM!**

_ In a stunning turn of events, the Wizarding World was shocked last night when alarms at the Ministry building sounded, calling in Aurors from all over the country for excessive use of Dark Magic within the building. The Minister himself was among those who Flooed into the Atrium, right into the middle of a pitched battle between You-Know-Who and Azkaban escapee Bellatrix Lestrange (more on Lestrange, B13) on one side, and The-Boy-Who-Lived (more on Harry Potter A2) and Hogwarts fugitive Headmaster Albus Dumbledore on the other. After being revived, the Minister could only manage two words – He's back!_

_ Upon seeing the Atrium flooded with Aurors, You-Know-Who grabbed Lestrange and immediately apparated, leaving Dumbledore and Potter to explain not only their presence in the Ministry (Potter should have been in school, while there was an arrest warrant active for Dumbledore), but the destruction to the Atrium, the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and the Department of Mysteries._

The article went on to describe the condition of the Ministry, focusing on the results while leaving out the details of the battle. It was another article the following day that got into more details. The Ministry was, rather characteristically, working fast to cover their collective arses. That the stance the government took was the complete opposite of a few days prior did not seem to matter.

**DEATH EATERS CAPTURED IN DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES**

_ While it remains a mystery as to how the group knew there were Death Eaters invading the Ministry, it is now known that Head Auror James Potter, along with Auror Team Leaders Sirius Black, Frank Longbottom, Alice Longbottom, and Aurors Kingsley Shackelbolt and Nymphadora Tonks, accompanied Hogwarts students Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom to the Department of Mysteries late on the evening of 4 June. There, the eight Defenders of the Light faced twelve Death Eaters. They were soon joined by fellow Defenders Auror (retired) Alastor Moody, Headmaster Dumbledore, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department Head Arthur Weasley, Gringotts Curse Breaker Bill Weasley, and TriWizard Tournament Contestant Fleur Delacour. With the balance tipped in their favor, The Defenders quickly gained the upper hand and managed to capture seven of the Death Eaters, including prominent businessman Lord Lucius Malfoy and Executioner of Dangerous Creatures for the Ministry of Magic Walden Macnair. _

Fudge's days at the Ministry were clearly numbered after hiding the return of the Dark Lord for an entire year, a year that the Wizarding World could have spent preparing for war rather than persecuting Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. Still, in a desperate cling to power, Fudge had immediately authorized the use of Veritaserum and held trials the day after the captures. With Unforgivable Curses on their wands, Dark Marks on their arms, and their own words of guilt condemning them, the seven Death Eaters were in Azkaban less than forty-eight hours after capture.

**AUROR SIRIUS BLACK REMAINS IN CRITICAL CONDITION**

_Injured by his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange during the battle in the Department of Mysteries, Auror Sirius Black was quickly transported to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where he is under Auror guard around the clock. The hospital refuses to release any details on his condition, but this reporter learned that he is in the process of regrowing several internal organs, a long and painful procedure._

_ Released from St. Mungo's are Auror Nymphadora Tonks and Auror (retired) Alastor Moody. Hogwarts student Neville Longbottom remains hospitalized, though, as Mr. Longbottom is a minor, there is no word on his ailment or when the hospital expects to release him into the care of his parents._

Though _The Daily Prophet_ did not print it, much of the Wizarding World was well aware that Neville Longbottom was suffering from continuous exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

**AUROR JOHN DAWLISH UNDER INVESTIGATION**

_ A private Review Board was held today to examine the actions of Auror Dawlish. Dawlish was the senior Auror on duty at the time of the Death Eater break-in to the Department of Mysteries. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has released that Auror Dawlish is being examined for spell residue._

There were more copies of _The Daily Prophet_, more headlines, but they were buried in the messy pile on Draco's desk in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor. To maintain their charade, Draco had left Severus's office before the Potters and Longbottoms arrived. He had not seen Harry since. His fellow Slytherin did not return to Hogwarts that night, nor before the Hogwarts Express left to bring the students home for the summer. He missed his Ancient Runes O.W.L. exam, but given his current popularity and the huge debt owed him by the Ministry, it would have been no trouble to arrange a private sitting.

The night that Harry, Neville, their parents, and the other Aurors went to the Ministry, Draco slept in Harry's room (though sleep was difficult to achieve with the anxiety and worry for Harry). Stirring at every little noise, he had fully expected to wake up to Harry slipping into the bed during the night, but was disappointed to wake up alone each time. He was not only alone, but Harry's belongings had been removed from the room by the time morning came.

In a panic, Draco had dashed to his godfather's office, where he learned that Harry had only sustained minor injuries, but that Draco's father was destined for Azkaban. The blond teen shivered, recalling the effects of dementors and knowing what his father was now suffering.

Draco jumped as his door slammed open, not accustomed to such rude behavior in his home. Whenever his parents desired his presence, they either knocked softly or sent in a house-elf for him.

"Get dressed and get downstairs," Aunt Bellatrix snapped at him. Draco no longer had to fight back his snickers at her appearance. A brief round of the Cruciatus Curse under her wand left him with a healthy fear of his mother's mentally unbalanced sister. The few seconds he was under made him think of Neville. According to Aunt Bella, she had managed a full two minutes before Alice Longbottom interfered. "It's time you learned something other than that twaddle taught at your school."

"Yes, Aunt Bella," Draco relied dutifully.

The atmosphere at the Manor had altered dramatically. With his father incarcerated with a life sentence, and Draco still underage, the position of Head of Family Malfoy, based on a strictly patriarchal, blood-based hierarchy, was left ambiguous. Nominally, Narcissa Malfoy would act as regent, of sorts, for Draco, with the power to make alliances, conduct business, and access the Malfoy vaults at Gringotts, but the woman was in shock.

From what Draco had learned, the Dark Lord had apparated himself and Aunt Bella to Malfoy Manor from the Ministry, demanding treatment for his Death Eater before apparating away as suddenly as he arrived. Without knowing her husband's fate, Narcissa Malfoy set about treating her sister's burns, fearing the arrival of Aurors or return of the Dark Lord at any moment.

Once she regained conciousness, Aunt Bella had domineered her younger sister. Draco had returned from Hogwarts to the sight of his crazed Aunt covered with a nauseatingly puce-colored burn paste that smelled of sulphur, and hexing his mother. His curse had been easily deflected, and he quickly found himself bound to a regal and priceless Louis XIV chair with chains.

The message that life had changed dramatically was swiftly received.

Since then, Aunt Bella had run roughshod over the manor. She threw hexes and curses about like confetti. The house-elves were terrified of her, and Draco and his mother were not far behind. He did not dare try to send any letters to Harry, or even talk to his mother about anything of consequence. The only relief came when the Dark Lord called Bellatrix away, or when Severus visited. His sharp tongue and quick wand were more than a match for Bella, and she relied on his potions to heal her burns from Harry's fire.

Dressed, Draco made his way down the elegant marble staircase. What had once seemed like the epitome of good taste and refinement, now felt cold and bleak. Part of Draco wondered if the Manor was channeling a little bit of Azkaban atmosphere in sympathy for its master. Looking out the window, the mist that drifted along the grounds only added to the gloom.

He led his hand run along the carved chair rail and ignored the paintings of his ancestors as he made his way to the ballroom, where his Aunt Bella waited for him.

"Good," Bella was hyper today, and Draco was not sure if this was a positive omen. Her moods were hard to read. With a flourish of her wand, three rats popped into existence on the floor.

His crazed aunt slipped behind him and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Hurt them, Draco. Live up to your name."

Steeling himself, knowing what was expected of him, Draco darted his eyes around the room quickly, looking for his mother, but she was not in sight. Chances were she was still in bed. There would be no quarter there. This situation, though, was exactly what he had been preparing for, what he knew was inevitable. He narrowed his eyes as he thought of the Dark Lord, of his father in prison, his mother a shell of her former vibrant self, of Harry in pain. The theory behind the curses was nothing new to him, and he gathered all of that anger and pushed it out of his wand.

_Crucio!_

Though he had merely whispered the word, the rat he aimed at flew back against the wall and writhed in pain, squeaking out its pain. He had never heard a rat scream before, and the sound was terrible.

Bella was gleeful, jumping about and clapping her hands like a toddler watching a quidditch game live for the first time. "He's a natural!"

In disgust, Draco lowered his wand and sneered at his aunt, "Really, Aunt Bella, it's just a curse."

"That's right, Draco," Bella's eyes looked almost feverish in her excitement. "Just like any other curse, only you have to _want_ it with this one, Draco. You can't just wave your little wand and say the words; you have to mean them, to _feel_ it. Do the others."

Draco remembered asking Severus how he could do it, how he could cause pain and act like he enjoyed it. And he remembered Severus's answer that he would do anything to protect the people he cared about, even compromise his own soul.

And so Draco made another rat perform ridiculous stunts, and sent another to its green death. And he aimed his wand again.

_Imperio!_

"You will apologize to my mother for the manner in which you have treated her since your arrival," Draco commanded his aunt.

He felt the power rise up within as he battled with her will, and there was a surge of might, of superiority, as her will buckled under his and she walked up the stairs and towards Narcissa's room. Draco followed, intent on witnessing this long-overdue moment firsthand.

Aunt Bella was spitting mad for a few moments, but Draco stood his ground and glared at her while she had her tantrum. He would not allow this psychopathic bitch to rule over _his_ home any longer. Once she finally calmed down, the look she sent his way made him falter just slightly. It was hunger, and greed, and something he could not identify that was part of her madness.

She ran a finger down the side of his face, standing too close. The proximity made him extremely uncomfortable but he would not allow her to know that. She spoke in an almost-whisper, "Such a strong boy."

And she was gone from the room.

"Draco, what have you done?" his mother was in shock, but more aware than she had been in the entire time he had been home from Hogwarts.

He sat down beside her on the bed and took in her frail form. He would have to make sure she ate more and regained her strength. Draco had a feeling he would need her soon. He took her hand and looked at it closely, taking in the thinning of the skin, the prominence of the veins, for the first time in his life. Though still young, the first signs of age were just beginning to show.

Gently, he folded his larger hands around both his mother's hands, "This is our home, Mother, and I will not allow her to take Father's place, to take _my_ rightful place."

Her hand, slipped out from between his, traced the same path that her sister's finger had just traveled, from his temple to his chin, "This is my fault."

"No, Mother," Draco's felt his gaze harden, and the muscles in his jaw tighten, "it is _His_ fault. And we will not let Him get away with it."

Draco swept out of the room and returned to his own, where he shut the door and leaned back against it. That was when the shakes started. He held his hands out in front of him and looked down at them, at the manicured nails, the porcelain skin, hands that had played Quidditch, had crafted delicate potions, had caressed glorious tanned skin. These hands, so very different from his mother's, would never be the same. He was about to submerse them in blood and pain and the stains would never come off. That was the price he would pay. Just as Severus said, he would corrupt his own soul, he would irrevocably taint his self, and in so doing he would protect those he loved.

When Draco went to dinner that evening, his mother was seated to the right of the head seat, dressed in fine robes, her hair impeccable and no sign of grief or fear on her face. A simple arch of her eyebrow communicated all that was needed and Draco made his way to sit at the head of the table. As he pulled out the chair, he heard the footsteps he had gotten to know well, the click of Aunt Bella's heeled boots on the tile, and he turned to greet her. Draco's sneer disappeared in the briefest fraction of a second as he realized his aunt was not alone.

"My Lord," Draco felt an icy surety coiling in his stomach. He bowed just slightly and offered his chair.

The Dark Lord took Draco's place, Lucius's place at the table, but before Aunt Bella could sit, Draco took the chair immediately to the Dark Lord's left, relegating his aunt to a lesser spot at the table. When she stared pointedly at her sister, Narcissa ignored her and clapped her hands for the house elves to serve the meal. It was a deliberate slight to the woman still standing, and the Dark Lord ignored the family drama. Glaring at her sister and nephew, Bellatrix sat.

"Are you ready to make amends for you father's failures?" the Dark Lord asked Draco calmly over the meat course, as though questioning him on the courses he intended to study in the upcoming school year.

Though Draco had been aware of his return from the evening it occurred, this was the first time he saw the self-proclaimed lord of wizardry himself. He no longer looked human, with his slitted nose, red eyes, and bald head, lips so thin that they were nearly nonexistent. Yet there was power, tangible power that was ready to be unleashed at any moment to strike and bring pain or death. His voice was almost hypnotic, with an undertone of hissing as though he spoke English and Parseltongue simultaneously.

This was the wizard who had marked Harry for life, who had brought chaos and destruction to Draco's family, who had made an abomination of magic itself in his quest for immortality.

But Draco locked any such thoughts, along with his fear and revulsion, deep in the darkest recesses of his mind. He would not allow even a trickle of his true feelings to escape and be known.

"I will bring honor to the name of Malfoy once more," Draco spoke with sincerity, with conviction, and with enough ambiguity that his listeners could interpret his words however they wanted to hear them.

"Then you will join me this evening, young Malfoy," the Dark Lord brought a napkin to his mount and dabbed at a trickle of jus from the roast lamb.

With a dip of his head, Draco had only one choice apart from a swift and meaningless death, "Yes, my Lord."

The following days were horrific, and a true test of everything Severus had taught him. Draco was not sent out on raids in the muggle world, nor on the few assassination attempts on high-placed Ministry officials, but that did not mean he was shielded from watching the Death Eaters at play. Muggles, and even the occasional blood-traitor or muggle-born, were brought back to wherever they were and tortured for entertainment amid the shrieks and laughter of the Death Eaters. It was disgusting.

Lucius Malfoy had joined this group willingly, Draco was well aware. His father had once been one of them, taking joy in the pain and suffering of others. Now Draco was expected to follow in his footsteps, and take up his wand where his father left off. It was not in his character, but they would not care. Draco did not enjoy causing pain, and the sight of blood still twisted his stomach, but this would be seen as a weakness, and if he wanted to help Harry, he could not show any weakness.

After he had proven himself, passed the unspoken test that he knew he was taking, Riddle held his wand to Draco's left forearm and burned his flesh. He felt the Dark Lord's presence there like insects burrowing into his skin, squirming and wriggling just below the surface. Robes ghosted along his sides and back as the dark Lord circled him, close enough that Draco could feel the heat from his body but just far enough away that they did not actually touch. The movements of the older wizard were smooth and intimate, and entirely unwelcome. And then the instructions were whispered into his ear, and the consequences for failure made quite clear.

The cost of success would be his soul, and likely his love, while the cost of failure would be the unthinkable.

"Mother, we need to talk," Draco saw the circles under her eyes when he returned home after his week-long absence. For all she knew, the price of her husband's failure was going to be the life of her son, and she had likely been awake nights, fearfully waiting for news.

Though he had seen him in passing during his time at the Dark Lord's current location, it was not until several more days had passed that Draco was able to speak to his godfather.

_Muffliato!_

Once the spell was cast, Severus exploded at Draco, "What have you done?"

"You act as though I had a choice," Draco snapped back, relieved to finally have a chance to vent some of his anger at the path his life had recently taken. "I have no more say in my path than Harry does in his."

Severus was pacing, his wand sparking in his anger, "You could have run."

Draco laughed, a nearly hysterical laugh, "Run? Is that what you would have me do? Abandon my mother to the twisted whims of her sister, to the wand of the Dark Lord?" He sobered quickly and shook his head, "They would not take me, no matter what Harry or you said, and my defection would be one failure too many. It would seal the fate of my parents."

Severus grabbed him in a firm hug, and Draco allowed himself one last moment of childhood, of comfort from his godfather, and it was over all too soon. He was held out at arm's length as the deep obsidian orbs gazed into his soul.

"What has he told you to do?"

"I am to kill Dumbledore, or Mother and Father will die."

Speaking it aloud made it all too real, and the enormity of his task weighed heavily on his being.

"So he intends for you to die."

"Or join my father."

"An apropos punishment for Lucius's pride," Severus spoke with a sneer, disgust lacing his words.

"Will you . . ." Draco swallowed, and looked up at his godfather, who still had several inches of height on him. "Will you tell Harry, please?"

Though not sure exactly what he was asking, whether he wanted his godfather to pass along the news that he was Marked, that he had been given an impossible to achieve task, or that he missed Harry desperately, but the older man seemed to understand. Severus nodded, and sat down, finally. His anger was spent, and calculation began.

"How is he?" Draco nearly whispered, desperate for news, yet fearing it all the same.

"Fully healed," Severus informed Draco, his voice softer. "His injuries were superficial, some bruises and cuts only. I have not seen him, as will not leave St. Mungo's until his godfather and Neville are released."

"And Neville?" Draco did not know when he had begun to care for the Gryffindor, but he was Harry's brother in all but name.

Severus shook his head, "Conscious, but not well. His mind has been fragmented. He was hit with the Cruciatus more than once that night, according to your cousin, and the last time he was under for two minutes before his mother stopped Bellatrix. The healers are still working to rebuild what they can."

Draco winced, not bothering to hide his reaction. He had only felt his aunt's sadistic joy of pain for a few seconds, and that was enough for a lifetime.

"I have been thinking, Severus, about what Harry revealed to us, and I may have a plan."

Severus arched an eyebrow at him, and Draco, thankful that if nothing else he had his godfather to confide in, began to outline his ideas. Draco spent the rest of the summer in the Manor's library. Though committed to his studies while at school, he had never focused so well before.

"What have we here?" Though her visits were less frequent, Aunt Bella still showed up unannounced, as though hoping to catch Draco or Narcissa unaware. "Soul magic, the magic of bonds, the unforgivables . . . interesting reading choices, Nephew."

Draco cocked an eyebrow at his aunt, knowing that whatever words he spoke would reach the Dark Lord's ears, "Our Lord has spoken of his connection with Potter. I am merely curious."

She ran her head over his hair, petting him like one would a dog. Her playful teasing tone grated on his nerves, "Curiosity killed the kitty."

"Then it is good I am no Gryffindor," Draco smirked.

As it frequently did, her demeanor and mood shifted without warning, and she grabbed his hair tightly, yanking his head back to look up at her. She leaned down so that he could smell her breath as she spat at him, "Be careful, little Dragon, lest you burn in your own fire. You have a task to do."

"One which I cannot begin for more than a month from now," Draco reminded her, taking a deep breath to keep his center. His neck was beginning to ache. "It does no good to make useless attempts that alert the prey of danger. My plans are forming."

"They had better, unless you are ready to kiss mummy and daddy good-bye." She released him with a hard shove forward, so that by the time he had his balance and had risen to his feet, she was already out the door.

Draco rubbed his forearm, ever aware of the new blemish to his otherwise flawless skin, and reminded himself yet again that he was doing this for one reason only.

Harry.

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	78. Chapter 78

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**Chapter Seventy-Eight**

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It felt like a dream, like he would wake up any moment and find it was all just a figment of his imagination. Like maybe magic wasn't actually real and Harry was a muggle living like a muggle in a muggle world with a muggle family and muggle friends going to muggle school thinking only muggle thoughts doing only muggle things –

He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, forcing his brain to stop its spiral into panic. That way laid insanity. It must be the lack of the sleep, the shock of the past few days. Going from a pariah to the darling and hero of the Wizarding World probably contributed as much to his determination to stay at St. Mungo's as the conditions of his godfather and blood-brother.

The healers had capitulated to his demands quickly enough, especially with the support of his parents behind him. If Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were the much-maligned heroes of Britain, James Potter was the solitary voice of truth in the Ministry. Everyone knew he wasn't the only Ministry employee who spoke out against Fudge over this past year of madness, but as Harry's father he was the focus of the press, and they were already proclaiming him a front-runner for Fudge's job.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Part of him knew that this opportunity was exactly the sort of thing that Harry's parents had worked towards for all these years. If James Potter became the Minister for Magic, then he could move mountains to protect the family, to help Harry fulfill his destiny. The problem was that Harry didn't think his parents could help him. They would be too conflicted between protecting him and letting him do what needed to be done; they had already proven that.

There was no way Harry was telling them he might be a Horcrux.

And they must also consider that Voldemort would make his move on the Ministry before long, and the Minister would be the first target. Harry selfishly did not want his father in that position.

Wearily, Harry blinked and looked down at his godfather. The man that was always so full of life was pale as the hospital blanket covering his still frame. The curse that Bellatrix cast at him was intended to essentially liquefy his internal organs. Ironically, he was lucky. Or maybe it wasn't irony, but rather something like a fortunate turn of fate. Whatever it was, Sirius missed his heart liquefying by a matter of inches. That would have been instant death.

As it was, Harry's father had just barely managed to halt the progression of the curse and keep Sirius stabilized until they could evacuate him to St. Mungo's.

Glancing at the next bed, Harry took a deep breath and pressed his lips together between his teeth. The healers had done just about all they could for Neville, and only time would tell if it was enough. There was going to be some permanent loss of brain function, but how much and in what areas, they had no idea. His blood brother would require 'round the clock observation for a minimum of a few weeks, and possibly much longer. After Harry mentioned their bond to the healers, they had grown a bit more optimistic. Apparently, a magical link to another wizard could have a stabilizing effect, and it might have been working that way since they were children. Retrospectively, Harry realized that he was always able to help Neville calm his magic much more quickly than even Aunt Alice and Uncle Frank.

As the two patients were sound asleep, Harry decided to stretch his legs a bit. The hospital, this portion of it anyway, was as close to deserted as it ever got in these few hours before sunrise. In deference to the hospital staff, Harry had been wearing loose cotton pants to bed, but no more. He was just uncomfortable in too much clothing.

Ignoring the Auror that shadowed him as he left the guarded room, Harry walked the quiet corridors, reveling in the privacy. His fingers traced a path along the grout between wall tiles, lightly taking in the texture. Concentrating on the moisture all around him, Harry could feel the porous nature of the grout, could detect how much water it could absorb before it would begin to expand, wicking the water to the underlying coat of cement, that would take it in before swelling and popping the tiles. He took some deep, meditative breaths as he centered his magic and calmed his mind.

Almost reluctantly, Harry shifted his attention and turned to walk through a well-marked door to the stairwell beyond. His bare feet padded up the stairs almost silently until they reached the next floor of the hospital, where the Tea Room was located.

It may not have been the destination he intended when he left the spell-damage ward, but Harry's stomach started to rumble lightly, reminding him that he had not eaten much for dinner. His appetite had simply not been there since the battle at the Ministry, and he knew he had lost some weight. Grabbing a muffin and pouring himself some coffee, Harry heard some muted sniffling, and turned to scan the room. Hesitating for only a moment, Harry took some more food and another cup of coffee before crossing the cavernous dining area and sliding into a booth across from the only other visitor there.

He set down the steaming mug of coffee and added some sugar before stirring and pushing it across the table to join the cranberry-orange muffin he had brought for her.

She peeled back the paper of the muffin, but only picked at the baked good, keeping her head down.

"You saved his life, you know."

Harry wasn't really sure what to say, and was truly feeling his youth. Despite all the advanced training his parents had given him, and all the books he had studied, some things just couldn't be learned any other way than through life experience. This, a situation like this, was one of those things, and Harry was completely over his head.

"I can't . . ." she fought back sobs as she picked at the muffin some more. "I just can't . . ."

"Auntie . . ."

Alice Longbottom finally looked up at Harry and gave him a sad ghost of a smile.

"You're a good brother to him, Harry," Aunt Alice spoke in a voice that hitched with raw emotion. "I never wanted children. I knew that marrying Frank meant I would have to bear at least one boy, to pass on the name, but I've never been really maternal. I love my boy, more than anything, but I never know how to tell him, how to show him."

Harry glanced to the side quickly and saw that his guard was standing a respectful distance away, close enough to hear if he was needed but far enough away that he wouldn't be eavesdropping.

"Neville knows you love him," Harry told his aunt. There had been times in his childhood when he got angry with her for how lost and alone Neville felt, and recently as she didn't visit her son in the hospital, but hearing her cry out his name in the Department of Mysteries, and seeing her take on Bella with all the ferocity of a mother lion protecting her cub, he knew that his childish anger was truly that – childish. He was in no place to judge his aunt. He had no idea what her inner thoughts were, her feelings, her motivations. This revelation made him think of his parents, but he pushed those thoughts away for future reflection.

She looked at him with Neville's eyes, but bloodshot and dark circled, pain shadowed, and nodded in acceptance.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" Harry sipped at his own coffee, lightened just a bit with cream and sweetened with honey.

Alice huffed, "Sleep would be wonderful. Every time I close my eyes I see him under that curse, just like when you were both just babies. I was too late then, like I was too late the other night."

Harry's guard stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed, and Harry assumed he had heard and dismissed something.

"You should come see him."

"I know."

"He's confused," Harry paused and ate some of his double-chocolate muffin as he struggled to find the right words to explain. The muffin was too dry, and he drank some coffee before speaking again. "He knows what happened, but he doesn't remember it, and I have to tell him again sometimes. There are little gaps in his memory, but mostly, there's just something, off . . . it seems."

By this time, silent tears were making their way down Alice's cheeks, one landing in her coffee and creating a little ripple. She lifted the mug and drank down half the cup with the practiced ease of one who had used caffeine to stay awake many nights in her past.

"Albus promised to keep his spot in Hogwarts for the next year, regardless of whether he can complete the work," the information was shared almost clinically, as though Neville's entire future was not hanging in the balance. He could easily get through life without working; the Longbottom vaults were more than sufficient for that. He would not, however, be able to become a Master Herbologist, his dream for years now, without his N.E.W.T.s.

Harry smiled at his aunt, relieved that Neville would be able to finish Hogwarts, at least, even if he could not pass his exams at the end of their seventh year. "He'll find a way. Neville is quietly strong like that."

"Thank you, Harry."

He just nodded, and they ate in silence. When he was done, and even the caffeine of the coffee and chocolate combined with the sugar were not enough to prevent him from yawning, Harry stood and offered his arm. With a flick of her wand, Alice silently banished their mugs to the counter across the room and their muffin wrappers to the bin. She rested her hand on his elbow and stood, accepting his invitation.

In the hospital room, Alice tucked Harry into his bed between the two patients, her automatic gesture directly refuting her earlier claim that she lacked any sort of maternal attributes. She turned away from him as he rolled to his side.

Neville, even in his sleep, smiled and nuzzled into his mother's gentle caress of his face. He emitted a sigh and continued to sleep soundly.

As Harry's eyes blinked against his will and sleep began to steal over him, he could just barely make out Aunt Alice mouthing 'thank you' to him as she left the room.

Pain woke Harry, piercing, stabbing pain emanating from his scar and pounding through his head. He gasped as consciousness was forced on him and grabbed his head, forcing back the bile that rose in his throat. _The Daily Prophet_ had been primarily covering the Ministry and the public's reaction to Voldemort's return, but they would have a new cover story for the next edition. What little honeymoon they had been afforded was over, and the war was truly beginning.

His dreams had been playing over the battle at the Ministry, the resurrection, and even going back to flashes of green light and his mother's screams, but that night all of those memories had been replaced with an attack in muggle London, right near the entrance to St. Mungo's. But that was not all. Riddle had been busy, going from one attack to another, and Harry's stomach turned as he recalled a look of furious determination on his father's face, and a familiar home in the background.

Most of all, Harry struggled to separate his own psyche from the feeling of glee and the desire to rain down pain, death, and destruction while standing to duel opposite James Potter.

His aunt was asleep in the chair next to Neville's bed, her breaths deep and steady, her eyes twitching with dreams. Sirius was unchanged, the potions and charms continuing to work in rebuilding his body while he remained in a spelled healing sleep. Sounds of the hospital filtered into Harry's consciousness, the click of someone's heeled boots on the tiled floor, doors opening and closing, far-off murmurs of conversation. It was early yet, and the amber hues of dawn cast the entire room in a sepia tone, making the standard hospital whites and greys appear as if they were an old photograph. Still a little shaky, Harry began meditation.

He was gaining more and more control over his elements, as evidenced by the fact that nothing in the room was on fire, no unnatural wind swept the halls, and the sky outside remained clear of clouds. His distress from his dream-turned-vision, and the fate of his father an unknown, would have loosed fire at least, if not all three elements, as little as a year ago. The duels that Harry and Severus had fought so frequently that year did more for his control than any of the exercises Remus taught him. Severus had him fighting with the elements, but disguising them as ordinary magic.

Though still anxious for news of his father, Harry assumed that if something terrible had happened, he would know. Someone would have been sent to tell him if he was suddenly Head of House Potter.

When the door to the corridor opened, Harry paid it no mind. He could feel that the guard was still there, and that his body temperature had not risen at all in fear or with adrenaline.

"You can lower you wand, Alice." There was also that. Not even her first deep sleep in weeks would prevent Alice Longbottom from reacting to a potential threat.

"Rufus."

Harry opened his eyes. The Head Hit Wizard was a man with whom he was roughly familiar. The Hit Wizards were a separate branch of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement than the Aurors, but there were times when they worked together. Rufus Scrimgeour was their Head, and thus the political equal, power wise, to James Potter.

"Mr. Scrimgeour," Harry nodded at the leonine man that stood just inside the door, just slightly intrigued, though he would not show it.

There was a tense pause, and Harry let his gaze flick over to his aunt briefly. Her eyes were guarded; she, too, was entirely unaware of the reason for the man's presence. She was standing, her wand lowered but still at her side, ready to rise again if needed. Her stance could be referred to as 'battle ready,' relaxed but prepared for instant movement.

Scrimgeour stood favoring one leg, and Harry remembered seeing the man limp the few times that they met. Though he had never asked the cause of the limp, Harry knew that it had to be the result of seriously dark magic, otherwise it would have been repaired.

"Let me begin by saying that all Potters, as well as Frank, are fine." A little knot of tension inside of Harry released at those words. His father had survived yet another brush with death.

"And Amelia?" Harry questioned the man, clearly surprising him. He knew he had surprised his aunt as well, but at least she knew how Harry would have gained this information and hid her momentary startle, only giving away her feelings with a few rapid blinks of her eyes.

"How did –" Scrimgeour cleared his throat, coughed, and recovered from his fluster quickly. His eyes narrowed at Harry just slightly, and Harry simply lifted his eyebrows in return. "She is down the hall, but should recover fully. For the duration of her convalescence, your father is Acting Head of Department."

"And Head Auror?" Alice questioned.

"Shackelbolt," Scrimgeour said simply, but with a slight frown. The leap in status was not unheard of, but rare, yet to the other conscious individuals in the room it made perfect sense and they nodded in unison. Alice had never wanted the position, Frank was not suited, and Sirius was incapacitated (and also did not truly have the temperament for politics). Kingsley was next in line for a Team Leader position and was well-respected by the Auror Corps as a whole. His position in the Order did not hurt, either, and his loyalties were known.

"Which means you are our new Minister," Harry commented astutely.

"Slytherins," Scrimgeour huffed, but did not hide a slight smile of pride in his new position.

Harry quickly assessed what little he knew of the man and determined to get as much information as he could. While he did not regret spending the last few weeks with his godfather and blood-brother, he had paid a price. Only when his family or other Order members had come in to visit had he received any reliable information. Stories in _The Prophet_ were telling, but often left as many questions as they provided answers.

"Why are you here?" Alice questioned bluntly.

Scrimgeour tossed her a slightly irritated glance, "My purpose is twofold." He let a dramatic pause leave his audience wondering, and Harry had to admire the man's skills. "Your leave of absence remains valid, Alice," this surprised Harry, as he did not know she was on leave, "but I must request you reconsider. Our forces are stretched thin as is, and –"

"I will save you the trouble, Rufus," Alice Longbottom, though small in stature, radiated confidence and power, and her soft voice filled the room. "You may say I am assigned to the protection of Sirius and my son, who is indeed a primary target, but I shall not be leaving this hospital until he does."

"Yes, well," Scrimgeour backed down graciously, knowing a lost cause when saw it. In that alone he was an improvement over Fudge, who would have tried to bluster and bully until he got his way. Quickly, the man regrouped and turned to Harry. "There will be a press conference in the Ministry Atrium just before the Ministry opens for the day. I would like the Chosen One to stand beside me in support of the new Ministry."

Though his instinctual response was '_Hell, no_,' Harry took several moments to consider the man's request. The Ministry was in Harry's debt, and could be further so if he appeared to support Scrimgeour. In Harry's absence, Scrimgeour would be able to make whatever claims he wanted, but if Harry was there, the new Minister would have to tread more carefully. Public opinion was fully on Harry's side, and he could easily determine whether Scrimgeour operated with or against the people.

Part of him wanted to discuss this with Dumbledore, with Severus, with his parents, with Draco, and the rest of their conspiracy, but Harry _was_ legally an adult. He _was_ the Chosen One, as _The Prophet_ had recently hailed him, and he could not always turn to others before making decisions, even of greater ones than this matter.

That his first appearance after the Ministry battle would be in the Atrium where the public portion of the battle took place would be significant.

"Who will be there?" Harry questioned the other man.

"All the Department Heads will be arrayed behind me as I address the press. Ministry workers will likely be in attendance," Scrimgeour informed Harry.

He nodded as he contemplated further. So his father would be there, but likely silent, and as part of a larger group.

With a startling flash of insight, Harry realized that, while his family and the faculty of Hogwarts had spent the past thirteen years protecting him, denying the press access to his life, sheltering him and keeping him out of the public eye as much as possible, that was probably why it was so easy for the public to believe lies about him, to vilify him. Their work had backfired in a way because the public didn't know him, not the real him. As their only source of Boy-Who-Lived information had been articles in _The Prophet_, they believed what they read.

With that, his decision was made for him. If Harry's long-term goal was not only to survive this war and come out as the victor, but to then achieve at least some semblance of a normal life in the aftermath, the wizarding world needed to know who he truly was, not simply the claims made by _The Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_. If he wanted to be left alone – more or less – when this was all over and done with, if he wanted to avoid such easy blackening of his character as he faced over the past year, he needed to be more than an image on paper and a legend. He needed to be a flash and blood, real life wizard with talents and flaws just like anyone else.

After the articles he had been reading most recently, Harry certainly had his work cut out for him.

"I have a few conditions . . ."

Scrimgeour was visibly pleased and frustrated all at once, and Harry found it amusing as the man muttered once again, "Slytherins."

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